Turning Point
by Sayuri-2012
Summary: Picks up where the Season 14 finale left off... Olivia fights off her attacker, but her close call leads her back to her ex-partner and she realizes that for better or worse, their futures are inextricably bound. EO (angsty)
1. No negotiation

１

She stumbled, the force of his sudden lurch almost causing her to lose her balance completely. She could barely get her head around the fact that the bastard was actually here, in her apartment, with a gun pointed right at her. The details of what he had done to Alice Parker and the way he had coldly spoken about it in that interview room were brutally prominent in her mind and the true horror of what she was almost certainly facing appalled her. Her heart was literally racing; a sensation of nausea was building and she knew she was close to panicking. She knew without a doubt that she had to fight. The alternative was too devastating. She knew she'd rather die than go through what he had in mind for her.

He pressed his body up close against hers and she shuddered with repulsion at the intimate contact.

"You're going to enjoy this," he muttered, a demented grin on his face that told him he was already getting off on her obvious fear.

"Please, don't do this!" she muttered. She knew she needed him to drop his guard a little and so was more than willing to play the role of the terrified victim he wanted her to be. It wasn't exactly hard to act anyway, since the truth was she had never felt so scared in her life. She'd had a gun held to her head before of course, but it hadn't been anything like this. It had been in haste; a desperate criminal in a final ditch effort to escape capture. Knowing exactly what this animal had planned for her was so much worse. The thought of her colleagues turning up in a few days, wondering where she was and finding her after he had finished with her, brought tears to her eyes.

"Not so tough now, huh?" he snarled, a grin of pure enjoyment splashed across his face. She felt her panic shifting to anger and she knew she needed to act now before it was too late. He had already loosened his hold very slightly, obviously assuming she had resigned herself to her fate and wouldn't fight back. She supposed he was used to being the one in control when he had a gun pointed at someone's head. Summoning up all her strength, she suddenly jerked, simultaneously lashing out and knocking his arm with such force that the weapon flew from his grip effortlessly as he stumbled, trying to maintain his balance. "Amateur," she thought smugly, as she twisted herself around to lay a second blow on him. Predictably, he had immediately made for the gun rather than worrying about her next move and expecting this she had been able to hit him exactly where she wanted and hard. He fell to the ground, momentarily stunned by the pain and shock of her deliberately placed blow to his crotch. Knowing how vital it was she made full use of this opportunity, she once again lashed out, this time with a hard blow to his head. Visibly dazed now, he lay on the floor, a slight moan emanating from his lips. Knowing he was incapacitated for at least the few vital seconds she needed, she now crossed the room and took the gun in her hand, immediately pointing it directly at him.

His eyes widened in surprise as he realized the tables had completely turned. He clearly hadn't been expecting her to fight back. He withdrew his hand feeling the blood from the side of his head between his fingers curiously and then he grinned at her in an almost amused fashion.

"You really are a bad ass!" he said approvingly, barely raising an eyebrow when he heard the click of her gun.

"You are under arrest…"

"Oh come now, detective. We were just getting started."

"You have the right to remain silent…" she continued, ignoring his attempts to rattle her.

"It's such a shame. We could have had so much fun."

"Anything you say or do may be used against you in a court of law…"

"This isn't over, you know." The conviction behind his words sent a shiver through her that she tried her hardest to conceal.

She paused. The adrenaline rush was already starting to abate. She could feel herself shaking. She gripped the gun even tighter, feeling the sweat build and suddenly feared for her continued ability to keep the weapon firmly in her grasp. Her chest felt like it was constricting. She forced herself to take a deep breath. This was hardly the time for a full-blown panic attack. With the gun still trained on him, hoping he wouldn't be able to tell just how close to losing it she really was, she stepped back towards the kitchen counter, where she had thrown down her phone when she had first returned home. She had her cuffs clipped on her belt as usual, but she wasn't about to risk getting close enough to him to risk any kind of retaliation. Instead she would call and wait for help, keeping him at a safe distance. One move from him towards her and she knew without a doubt that she would shoot.

She watched him closely as she dialed the number. His expression never changed. His stony intimidating stare was fixed on her. She desperately prayed that help would arrive soon, for she really wasn't sure how much longer she could do this without losing control. With her finger on the trigger, she couldn't help but consider what it would be like to pull it, to put an end to this evil bastard's existence. She remembered Special Agent Cooper and the way she had executed the Woodsman, an evil monster who had tortured and killed at least twenty-four women. At the time she had been so adamant that the right thing to do would have been to bring the guy to justice through the courts, but as she stared at the man before her, she realized she finally really understood where Agent Cooper had been coming from. William Louis had already managed to evade justice on numerous occasions. There was no guarantee he wouldn't again. It would be so easy to just pull the trigger now and claim self-defense. She'd probably get away with it since he had broken into her apartment and even if she didn't, at least he would never be able to hurt anyone again.

She could hear the approach of the uniforms outside in the hallway and knew it was now or never. As she tensed, her grip tightening on the trigger and her aim focusing, she imagined the bullet penetrating his skull, ending his evil reign of terror permanently. The sudden look of pure alarm on his face told her that he had understood her intent and for the first time since she had encountered the sorry excuse for a human being, she actually detected fear emanating from him. She realized then that she no longer wanted to pull that trigger. She didn't want his death on her conscious, tormenting her for the rest of her life. Why should he get the easy way out anyway? He deserved to rot in prison and she would do everything she could to ensure that happened after this. His gaze lowered shamefully and she smiled triumphantly. She had beaten him and he had acknowledged it.

She watched silently as the attending officers cuffed him and led him out of her apartment. As soon as he disappeared from sight, she felt her legs go weak as the realization of just how close she had come, suddenly hit hard. She sank into the nearest chair. It didn't feel real. Everything had happened so fast, yet that moment when she had been convinced he would do to her all those terrible things he had done to Alice Parker seemed to have lasted a lifetime. The mere thought was horrifying. The nausea overwhelmed her and she got back to her feet and rushed to bathroom to empty her stomach. She gripped the porcelain bowl tightly as she heaved violently, her eyes watering from the intensity.

…

Cragen and the rest of the team turned up promptly. She had managed to pull herself together a little by the time they arrived. She was more than aware that the younger members of the team in particular all looked up to her as some kind of role-model. The last thing she wanted was for them to see her falling apart. She could tell by the way Cragen was looking at her that he wasn't buying it, however. His expression was full of genuine concern, but it just made her feel even more determined that she wouldn't ever let that bastard have the satisfaction of knowing he had impacted her life in any way.

"Liv…." Her Captain began, speaking softly, in that voice he used for the victims, she noted not without some irritation.

"I'm fine Captain," she snapped. "He pulled a gun and I fought the bastard off. It only lasted a few minutes."

Cragen sighed. He knew full well that those few minutes must have felt like an eternity to her. He had been heavily involved with the Alice Parker case, even blamed himself for not having realized something was terribly wrong when he had gone round to check on her. They had all seen the bruises and knew every detail of what that poor woman had endured during all those hours she had been tortured by 'the beast' as she had referred to him. He had watched through the glass as Olivia had sat there in the interrogation room, forcing herself to swallow her own disgust as she encouraged Lewis to recount the gory details of exactly what he had done to his victim and heard him brag about much he had enjoyed it. His ass was any of it hypothetical! That man was evil in its purest form.

"Brian will be here soon," he told her. He was glad she had someone she could at least share this with. She hadn't been the same since Stabler had left. He had to admit that he had been somewhat surprised when he had found out she had hooked up with Brian, but once he had got over the initial shock, he had decided it was a good thing. Everyone deserved to find love. It certainly wasn't his place to judge her choices in men anyway. He was just glad she had someone to talk to. Brian Cassidy had worked special victims. He understood the job and consequently that went a long way towards understanding her.

"You called him?" she asked, her tone revealing in no uncertain terms that she wasn't exactly enthralled by the idea. The truth was she hated the thought of her captain assuming she needed a babysitter. Nothing had actually happened after all. She wasn't about to let him think she was about to fall apart. Just the thought of being forced into more compulsory departmental counseling made her cringe. Every single case they dealt with was harrowing and more often than not fraught with danger. Was this really all that different?

"I just didn't think you'd want to be alone after everything that happened," he explained, unsure if he wasn't just digging himself into a deeper hole.

"You didn't think I could make the call myself if I wanted someone?" she replied stonily.

"I er…"

"Look. You don't need to worry about me Captain. Nothing happened."

"I'm sorry. I was just trying to help. I`m just worried about you."

"Well don't be."

She knew her tone was harsh, but she didn't care. All she wanted was for everyone to get out of her apartment and leave her alone. She couldn't think straight with so many people around.

"How much longer is this going to take?" she asked impatiently.

"You know the drill," Cragen replied. "I'll tell them to speed it up as much as possible."

"Thank you," she replied.

…

Brian had turned up a short while later, just as the crime scenes unit was finishing up. She allowed him to take her into his arms, pretending that a hug was just what she needed and that everything was and would be fine. He hadn't seemed to notice the fact that she just wanted to be alone right now, so that she could finally cry without having to worry about the people she cared about seeing her fall apart. So she kept it in, reminding herself that her ordeal had really only lasted for a few minutes and that she had escaped not only with her life but also with her dignity. The younger team members had congratulated her on fighting the guy off, the awe and respect apparent in the expressions on their faces. She had to admit she had been pleased at their reaction. Even Brian had patted her on the back and called her a bad-ass. Of course he couldn't have known that it reminded her of how Lewis himself had used those very same words and remembering that made her absolutely sick to her stomach.

Once everyone had finally left she had informed him that she was desperately tired and just needed to sleep. So they had snuggled up in her bed and within five minutes he had started the low snoring that she had come to expect on the nights he stayed over. Then she laid there, her mind racing; going over and over everything that had happened and how things could have ended so differently. After a while, knowing that he was deeply asleep by now, she carefully slipped out from under his arm and left the room. She curled up on the sofa, putting the TV on low, wanting the comfort of the background noise. A short while later the tears finally began to fall.


	2. Hurting

2

She slipped out at first light. She had barely slept, spending most of the night curled up on the sofa, staring at the wall, replaying everything over and over in her mind. She remembered how she had placed her groceries and phone down on the kitchen counter and then she had thought she had heard a sound. She had fought against the ingrained instinct to draw her gun, telling herself not to be so ridiculous; that she was just jumpy after everything that had happened over the last few days. It was probably nothing, maybe a random building creak, or an echo emanating from the next door apartment. She hadn't been due to meet Brian that night, but she wondered if it were even possible he had let himself in to surprise her. It was this thought that prompted her "hello? For some reason she felt embarrassed to call his name. She hadn't wanted to so obviously ruin his illusion of surprising her, if that was in fact what he was attempting to do. All in all, there was any number of reasonable explanations. She had never imagined that William Lewis pointing a gun at her face could be one of them.

She had frozen in absolute shock, momentarily confused as she tried to process the image of him standing there before her and what it meant. Then he had smirked; that same disturbing smile he had used when describing everything he had done to Alice Parker in that interview. The cold fear had hit her like a slug to the chest. She had wanted to scream but her vocal chords seemed frozen and no sound came out. The realization that he was no doubt now going do all those terrible things to her was paralyzing. Why hadn't she reached for her gun when she had first heard the noise? Why hadn't she considered he might come looking for revenge? He had already proved that was his MO with Alice. The poor woman had just been an innocent bystander, trying to do the right thing, yet he had honed in on her, subjecting her to a horrifying eighteen hour ordeal which Olivia was convinced had played a part in her death just three days later. Like everyone else though, she had just never assumed he would dare to go near her or anyone else on the team.

She could feel his chest pressed hard up against her, the odd smell of finger-nail polish on his breath, telling her he had probably got his hands on some cheap impure crystal meth. The peculiar aroma combined with his cheap aftershave gave him a very distinctive smell, ironically leaving her now with further proof that could have been used in court to suggest that Alice Parker couldn't possibly have been mistaken regardless of her eyesight. Even blindfolded she knew she would recognise him by that distinctive smell easily. His hands were cold, his gaze calculating; his intent palpable. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest as the memory of how he had held her with the gun pressed firmly against her neck pointing upwards into her head, permeated her entire being.

She couldn't get it out of her head, not any of it.

She began to run, heading in the direction of Central Park, although she hadn't really planned to go there specifically. She just needed to be moving. She had always enjoyed running. Exercising usually cleared her head. It made her feel strong, as though she could take on the world. After she entered the park, which had only just opened for the day, she no longer had to negotiate the streets and the numerous traffic lights, so she quickened her pace. She could feel a very slight twinge in her knee. She hadn't realised she'd even hurt it, but she supposed she must have strained it a little when he had pushed her and she had fought to maintain her balance. She ignored the pain and continued running, pushing herself to go faster and faster.

She could feel her body protesting at her stubborn insistence that she maintain the sprint. Her heart was racing, her legs were screaming at her to slow down. Still she pushed herself on. She tried to focus on the discomfort rather than the memories, but it wasn't working. She couldn't get it out of her head; the gun in her face, the look in his eyes. It was useless. What was she doing? She stumbled over a rock and tripped. Instead of struggling to maintain her balance, she allowed herself to fall to the ground. It was still damp from the overnight rain. She smashed her fists down hard, bruising her knuckles, yelling in frustration. No one was around to hear. It was still early and she had deliberately chosen a less popular path.

She was suddenly very conscious of the fact that she was out in the open, alone. Cautiously she got to her feet, glancing around vigilantly. The hairs bristled on the back of her neck as she uncharacteristically started to feel significantly exposed and vulnerable. It wasn't a feeling she was used to and this in turn led to a renewed rush of anger at the unfairness of it all. She wanted to smash things. That thought reminded her of _him_.

She had tried so hard to put her old partner out of her mind. The bastard had just upped and left after all. A twelve year partnership and he had just ended it, leaving her to find out from their boss, with barely any contact since. So much for friendship! There had once been a time when she felt he would have done anything to protect her and back then she knew she would have had to pull him off Lewis forcibly to prevent him from taking the guy apart for having even threatening to lay a finger on her. The thought made her smile. He had always been there for her. Back then anyway.

She thought back to Brian and how he had come home, given her a sympathetic hug and then just rolled over and gone to sleep. Of course it wasn't entirely fair to blame him for not persisting. She had made it clear in no uncertain tones that she didn't want to talk about it. Only he had accepted her at her word. He hadn't realised that in fact she desperately needed to share this with him. But how could she tell him how scared she had really been? He had been praising her for her courage and bravery almost from the second he had turned up, the pride shining in his eyes. How could she tell him that it was nothing like that? She had only fought out of sheer desperation and terror. It had been pure instinct, nothing more. She wasn't brave. She just hadn't wanted to die. Her hands had shaken relentlessly as she pointed that gun at him and even then she hadn't been able to go through with actually pulling the trigger. She felt like a coward.

She blinked hard. She wasn't about to cry again. What good would that do? She had never felt more alone than she did right now. She had no one to talk to, no one who would attempt to crack at the walls she had built up over years of habit and no one who would be there if and when they tumbled down. She was trapped behind this façade of strength and bravery and she had dug herself in so deep that there was no way out. Her only option was to spend months with a counsellor, someone who was being paid to sit there and listen to her; paid to pretend to give a shit. The thought depressed her. How had she got to this point in life where she truly had no one?

She wandered back towards the Manhattan streets slowly. It suddenly struck her how tired she actually was. She couldn't face the idea of going home, having Brian ask her where she had been, ask her if she wanted to talk, readily accept her decline to do so and then probably try to convince her into eating breakfast. At some point he'd want to switch the sport on, get absorbed in that, maybe crack open a beer in the afternoon. He might look up from time to time, ask her if she was okay, but he wouldn't be able to hide his relief when she affirmed that she was. Who wanted to deal with trauma? He'd probably avoid the subject of sex for a while, assuming that was the last thing she would want to do after her ordeal. He was a decent man. He would want to do the right thing. She knew he cared about her and she cared about him too, but maybe that was as far as it went. He didn't really "get" her. It was just a bit of fun in the here and now. Besides neither of them had yet said the "L word".

She felt guilty feeling this way, but she was convinced that deep down he knew they could never last. They were just too different. It was mostly her fault she supposed. She had never really given him the chance to beak down the barriers she had built, the ones she desperately needed to protect herself. She realised she had given up on really finding love long ago. She had buried her feelings to such an extent that she had managed to convince herself that it didn't matter to her; that she was fine on her own, that she could gain happiness by focusing on the victims and helping them. That was her role in life. Her own happiness was immaterial.

She found herself wandering into a small coffee shop. She settled at the back with a hot cocoa, unable to face the idea of eating anything. She glanced up and saw a man queuing. She held her breath. He had the same build, the same hair colour, a similar jacket to one _he_ had owned a few years ago. She watched breathlessly as he spun around and then immediately blushed at her own stupidity. Of course it wouldn't have been him. That would have been way too much of a coincidence. Anyway, he lived in Queens as far as she was still aware. Why on earth would he be in Manhattan at this time in the morning?

She then noticed the woman behind him as she slipped her arm around him, her expression happy and carefree. She had been standing right there and yet she hadn't taken in the fact that they were together. She had just been fixated on the possibility that it might have been _him_. She watched as he leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips and at that point she turned away, deliberately staring at her mug. Maybe she should just cling on to whatever happiness she could get. Maybe she should go home and try and talk to Brian. Maybe it could work if she tried harder?

…

With her decision made, she headed home. Maybe caring for someone was enough. Love was difficult to define anyway. Maybe it wasn't as they'd have you believe in the movies? Maybe in reality it was just two people who got on well, who were moderately attracted to each other and made the decision to give it a go? Maybe real love, true love, grew over time with effort, through intimacy and shared experiences. Maybe she had got it all wrong up to now. The love she had been searching for was an illusion. Maybe if she had recognised that earlier, she would have found someone she could have settled for before now. As she trudged up the stairs to her apartment, she decided she would really try and do everything she could to make things work.

She went inside and immediately saw he was up, seated on the sofa, his feet resting on the coffee table, a plate of toast on his lap and a coffee mug in his hand, watching TV.

"Hey," she said, ignoring the irritation she felt at seeing him sprawled out like that without a care in the world, despite the fact she had been gone when he had woken up.

"Hey," he said cheerfully.

"Don't you want to know where I've been?" she asked.

"I figured since your sneakers were gone you'd gone out for a run."

"Oh right," she said. The man was so logical. Had he really not worried about her going off alone after everything that had happened the day before? Or… was he pretending not to be worried, believing that she wouldn't want him to fuss? Surely that must be it? She stepped towards the sofa and sank down beside him, leaning over and pecking him on the cheek.

"Did you have a good run?" he asked. She nodded. He seemed so calm, that her doubts further set in. Maybe he wasn't pretending? Maybe he truly hadn't been concerned at all?

"I'm going to grab a shower," she said, feeling frustrated and hurt. She was determined to talk to him, but it wasn't easy to bring up the subject. It would help if he asked her if she was really OK. She could use it as an opening to tell him that no, she wasn't; not at all. However, his gaze had already returned to the breakfast news, so she quietly slipped away and headed towards the bathroom.

As she stood under the hot water, feeling the spray cascade over her face, she remembered back to that time after she had returned from Seal View. _He_ had come up to her at her desk, stood there staring at her, his eyes drowning in obvious worry and concern and he had asked her gently what had happened. For a brief second she had seriously considered telling him. His proximity, the way he looked at her, she knew he would listen, he would comfort her and he would care. He may even wrap his arms around her in one of their infrequent overt displays of affection and tell her that everything was going to be OK. But that was precisely why she couldn't do it. To have him comfort her would just have been too hard. He was married, with a new baby. He had his own life. Her falling in love with him had never been part of the plan. They were partners and she knew it could never go further than that. She would have risked everything if she had opened up to him: their friendship, their partnership, not least her own sanity. To feel his comfort, receive his support and then watch him go home to his wife, would have been devastating. She couldn't do that to herself.

Now here she was again, at a crossroads. Should she let Brian in or not? She had nothing to lose this time. They were already in a relationship. Letting him in should theoretically only bring them closer. However hard it was to broach the subject, she decided she had to do it.

She rubbed the towel up and down her body, taking her time. Now she had made the decision she was anxious to get the ball rolling, but also nervous. She slipped on some leggings and a sweatshirt and brushed her hair. Then, finding no other excuse to procrastinate, she headed into the living room, where he was now clearing away his breakfast dishes.

"Good shower?" he asked. She nodded, her struggle to find the right words to start this conversation resulting in a prolonged silence, which eventually he broke.

"Look, Liv, I can tell you need to be alone right now. I don't want to get in your face okay, so I think I'm going to head home and give you some space. I'll call you later to make sure you're okay. Maybe we can grab lunch in a couple of days or something?"

"Oh OK," she said dazed. Was she hearing right? He was leaving? She had just been about to try and open up and now he had decided it was time to go?

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.

She nodded weakly. He was actually serious about leaving?

"All right then. I'll head off. Call me anytime if you need anything."

"Sure," she said.

She watched as he picked up his keys, wallet and cell phone from the table where he had left them and she forced a smile as he stepped up and kissed her on the forehead. Her heart sank. He had completely avoided her lips. He was treading on eggshells. She imagined he couldn't wait to get out of here.

"See you soon, okay," he said.

Unable to answer, she simply nodded, forcing another smile. Then just like that he was gone. She bolted the door and then wandered over to the sofa, bewildered. This hadn't gone anything like the way she had planned.


	3. Regrets

3

It was just a mindless chick flick that she had only switched on for the background noise, because the silence in her apartment had been driving her crazy. She was curled up on her sofa with a glass of white wine, occasionally sipping at it, not really concentrating on the TV, for her mind inevitably kept wandering back to how he had stood there, the gun pointed straight at her head, his aim unwavering. It was the perfect movie really for the storyline was simple and extremely predictable, so it was easy to follow without really listening to it. There was something about the protagonist's persistence that got her attention though. She just never gave up. It was a romantic notion… just a pity that real life wasn't anything like that.

She picked up her phone and started flicking casually through her photo album, stopping when she reached the specific picture she had been looking for. It wasn't the best quality; it was slightly out of focus and the angle was tilted, but it was the only one she had of them together on her current phone. She hadn't even realised it had been taken at the time, only finding it a week or so later when she had happened to go through her photos to delete the old ones she no longer wanted to keep. She remembered that night. The whole unit had gone out for drinks after work. She remembered how the guys had been teasing her about her latest date, wanting to glean as much information as they could, specifically hankering for a description of her mystery man, but she had flat-out refused to tell them anything much. Then Fin had suddenly grabbed her phone which she had placed on the table in front of her earlier, but she had just laughed, knowing full well her photo album was guarded safely with a password Fin wouldn't have a chance in hell of guessing. He had played around with it for a while and then given up. She had ignored his efforts to rile her and returned to her conversation. It seemed that at some point Fin must have taken that photo. The one she was staring at now.

At first she had been horrified when she had come across it. She was leaning in to him, her head resting on his shoulder; an intimate position that, were anyone who didn't know them to see, they might be forgiven for being under the impression that they were a lot more than just friends or work partners. She cringed at the expression on her face, the way she was looking at him. She may as well have taken a billboard advertisement out, shouting out her feelings for him in block letters. Her fingers had hovered over the delete button, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to do it. She had precious few photos of him.

As time had passed she had begun to focus less on how she was staring at him like a love-struck teenager and more on him. It had occurred to her, that yes, she may have been wearing her feelings on her face that particular night, but he didn't seem to be bothered in the least. In fact he seemed to be enjoying it. Maybe she was thinking too much? Maybe she hadn't actually been as obvious as she feared to everyone after all? Maybe it was just because she knew how she felt that she was self-conscious about the way her feelings looked to everyone else? She decided that the photo probably just represented to them what it was in reality: a close and important partnership: a special kind of friendship that was unique to them: indefinable.

Had been unique…. she corrected herself wistfully.

It was strange how staring at that photo could invoke such a contrast of feelings: the happiness she had felt that night, while they innocently flirted in the safety of the context of workmates casually sharing drinks in a bar and the sadness she felt about having lost the one person in her life that she truly cared about. It would be so easy to insist it was his fault that he had walked away. She could have laid all the blame at his feet, convinced herself that she hated him and vowed never to think of him again. But it wasn't that simple. Nothing ever was. Their relationship had always been complicated. They had reached breaking point before. She knew all too well that his walking away this final time wasn't a sign that he didn't care anymore: it was that he cared too much. As much as she hated his decision, she understood it. He was married. His family was the most important thing in the world to him. He would never walk away from them and she would never ever ask him to. He knew that.

She remembered the hours after the shooting in the precinct. She had hung around while IAB had interviewed him, waiting to catch him and let him know that she was there, that she would support him one hundred per cent and be there for him throughout, as she always had been. He had offered her a lift home, as he always did late at night. They had driven home in silence. Then when they had arrived outside her apartment building, he hadn't unlocked the doors, as he would usually as soon as they arrived. She had looked up at him quizzically and she had seen the sadness in his expression as he stared straight back at her.

"I did it again," he had said simply. She had known what he had meant immediately. That conversation after the face-off with Gitano was etched into her memory forever. She had remained silent, awkwardly shifting her gaze to her knees.

"I'm so sorry, Liv. I ruined everything," he had said finally.

"It's not your fault," she said weakly. "I would have done the same."

"That's precisely the problem." He had sighed heavily then. "We can't keep on doing this, can we?"

There was something about the way he ended his sentence. It sounded more like a question than a statement. She considered it for a moment. Part of her wondered why they couldn't. They had for the last twelve years after all, as it turned out. But she knew he was right.

"No," she replied quietly, her tone more certain than she felt.

"Bye Liv," he had said, finally unlocking the doors.

Slowly, reluctantly, she had stepped out of the car, bewildered. It was as though something much deeper had been going on in that conversation and she was left confused, feeling like she had just made the biggest mistake of her life. That 'bye' sounded so final.

She had dragged herself upstairs, flashed her lights as usual, knowing that he'd be waiting for the signal before leaving. Then she had curled up on her bed, without even bothering to undress. A feeling of finality hit her that she couldn't shake: a horrible sense that it was truly all over. The sickening realization that he had just reached out, actually offered her a thread of hope for an impossible path, one that he must have known deep down she would have to decline. It was the right thing to do, she was certain of that. At that point though she still hadn't been sure exactly what it would mean for them.

When he hadn't turned up at work, nor answered her calls, her fears had grown, only to be confirmed when Cragen called her into his office, to inform her that it was really over, for good this time. She had cried as the reality had truly hit. Ever since, she had wondered what would have happened had she answered his question differently that night. How could she have done though? She kept thinking of his family. The thought of her being the cause of breaking them apart was unbearable. She knew she loved him and was fairly certain now he felt the same for her, but it was an impossible situation. Circumstances had conspired against them. Maybe in an alternative universe, things could have been different?

Now though, as she thought of how easily Lewis could have pulled that trigger and ended her life, she was filled with a profound sense of regret. What if she hadn't had said no that night? It was something that would play on her mind for evermore, she was certain. Agreeing to walk away was the last thing she had really wanted and had she known it would be permanently, she wasn't certain that she would have done so. She knew he had felt he had no choice for in that short conversation they had revealed too much. Even though she had understood it, she had still struggled to accept it was really over. She had tried calling him a few times, in the vain hope that maybe they could still somehow go back to how things were, but he hadn't answered. She couldn't deny how much it hurt, but she understood it.

Suddenly now, she desperately wanted, needed to see him again. The thought terrified her. So much time had passed. She knew that if she had really bothered to make the effort she could have gone round to his place at any time. The thought of going there now thoroughly petrified her. More than likely he had moved on and put her out of his mind. Would it really be beneficial to either of them to go there now and drag up old memories? Maybe she should just forget about it? But she had to tell him. She had to make sure he knew why she had answered the way she had done that night. That it had been precisely because she loved him that she had pretended she didn't. She needed him to know the truth.

She couldn't face driving or taking the subway, so she dialled the number of the cab company she sometimes used.

"Where to, Miss?" the cabbie asked her ten minutes later when she hopped into the back.

"Queens," she replied decisively. If her brush with death had taught her anything, it was that life was too short. Besides she missed him terribly. The chance at seeing him one final time was too appealing to miss. She just hoped he would forgive her for leaving it so late.


	4. Reacquaintance

4

The doubts started creeping in the second the taxi pulled off and the closer they got to Queens, the more she started to think that asking the cab driver to turn back around would be for the sensible thing to do. However, before she knew it, she found herself outside his family home still teetering on the edge of indecision. She asked the taxi driver to hang on for just a moment while she tried to decide what to do. Should she get out? Should she go back? Going back though would mean admitting that it was truly over and that she would never see him again. That thought alone spurred her to finally hand over the cash and clamber out of the taxi. Glad for the excuse to procrastinate, she waved once more in thanks to the taxi driver and watched the vehicle as it pulled off and disappeared down the road. Hesitantly, she then turned and focused her gaze on the house.

She hadn't been here in so long. It looked exactly the same and for a second it almost felt like old times. She remembered that day she had come round to pick up a then heavily pregnant Kathy to take her to an appointment that Elliot had been unable to make. The events that transpired after that remained as fresh in her mind as though they had happened yesterday. Witnessing the birth of a child – Elliot's child – had been a profound moment in her life. It had also driven home that she really had to get over this inappropriate 'thing' she had for her partner. He had five children and he loved his wife. They were the facts and she had no choice but to face them.

What was she doing here? He had walked away. It was for the best. Coming here after all this time was crazy. She was just going to stir up a lot of buried emotions, which would no doubt end up in heartbreak; certainly for her anyway. Surely if he was the least bit bothered about seeing her again, he would have contacted her? He couldn't really think that she didn't want to hear from him again, could he? He must know that could never be true.

Still, the practical side of her pointed out that she was here now, so maybe she should just knock on the door, talk to him and get closure. Maybe they could settle things between them, agree to exchange Christmas cards once a year to keep track and maintain a minimal relationship in that way. She did miss him and it hurt not knowing anything at all about his life. She often wondered how he was, how his kids were doing… w_hether he ever thought of her_.

She shook her head, exasperated with herself. It was like she couldn't stop her thoughts from going down that impossible path.

She looked up and down the street. It was pretty dark. Her gaze lingered for a while on a parked car a little way down. She couldn't work out if there was anyone inside or not. She thought she could make out a figure, but wasn't certain. It made her nervous, all too aware that she was out on the street alone. Knocking at his door suddenly seemed considerably more appealing than standing out here alone. She walked a couple of paces closer to his house, but once again uncertainty struck and she paused, her thoughts relentlessly switching between her irrational fear of a more than likely an innocently parked car and the all too real fear of his potentially negative reaction to her suddenly coming here out of the blue.

She reached into her purse for her cell phone. Maybe she should call the cabbie back. He couldn't have gone too far. He could be back within minutes. She started scrolling down for the number. Then she heard the sound of the door to his house opening and she completely froze. She heard the young woman's voice calling out goodbye and she recognized it before she saw her. She realized with horror that there was absolutely no way she could avoid being seen now. The decision had been made for her. Her stomach was in knots as she watched Kathleen turn around and then saw the obvious surprise on her face.

"Olivia!" she exclaimed. "Oh my goodness! I can't believe you're here!"

"Hi Kathleen," she said shyly, hoping their voices hadn't carried inside the house. She had always had a good rapport with the girl, especially after helping her the way she had after she had when her refusal to face up to her illness had threatened to destroy her life. Seeing her now looking so elegant in a mid-length dress and short jacket, she was pleased. She looked vibrant, positively glowing with confidence.

Kathleen stepped forward and hugged her eagerly.

"Are you off on a date?" Olivia asked smiling.

"Yes in fact," the younger woman admitted. "…Although, we've been dating for a while now actually."

"That's wonderful."

"How have you been Olivia?"

"Good thanks." She could feel Kathleen's gaze on her, a slight hint of scepticism in her expression and she found herself unable to maintain eye contact, shifting her gaze nervously back to the street and unintentionally to the parked car again.

"Dad's inside – he's alone," Kathleen said quietly. Olivia was grateful she hadn't made a big thing out of what had just passed between them. That girl was too astute for her own good, she thought.

"I don't know if this is such a good idea," she muttered. "I was just about to leave actually when you came out."

"You should talk to him. I know he misses you."

"It's been so long…"

"He's changed you know, after everything that happened and leaving the job."

"Maybe I'll come back another time then."

"But you're here now. Talk to him Olivia. Please."

She nodded slowly. If his own daughter was encouraging her to go in there, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea after all?

"I have to run, but I hope to see you again soon. Can I call you sometime? Maybe we could grab a coffee or something?"

"Sure, I'd like that," Olivia said smiling. "I'd love to hear about everything you've been doing – and about your mystery man."

"It's a date," she said with a smile before she turned and ironically headed straight towards the parked car that she had found so unsettling.

Olivia watched them pull off and waved until the car was out of sight. Then she turned and stepped right up to the door this time. Taking a deep breath, she reached out and pressed the buzzer. She heard it sounding inside the house and her stomach muscles clenched in anticipation. She could hear someone approaching. Kathleen had said he was in alone. It must be him. Unable to look up, she kept her gaze down at her feet as she heard the door opening.

"Liv!" she heard him exclaim. At least he sounded more surprised than annoyed.

Slowly, she raised her head taking in the familiar form in front of her. He was wearing casual attire: jeans and a t-shirt and there was something different about him; he seemed more relaxed, more laid-back; happier.

She fought the emotion at seeing him again after all this time and tried her best to appear unflustered.

"Hi," she managed to say. She inwardly cringed. She intended her tone to be casual, but she knew her voice had come out a little higher than usual.

"Come in," he said finally, stepping back a little to allow her room to pass.

"Are you sure this isn't a bad time," she asked quickly.

"I was just watching some TV," he said with a grin that immediately reminded her of the old Stabler. It was so familiar yet so strange.

She followed him inside, seating herself on the armchair that he indicated. He switched off the TV and then disappeared into the kitchen to get them some drinks. While she waited she glanced around the room, mostly staring at the photo of Eli in his school uniform on the wall. He had grown so much. It was astonishing how quickly time passed. Seeing the photo though just reminded her how wrong this was and made her feel even more apprehensive about having come here.

He returned a minute later with a couple of glasses of orange juice and a few cookies and placed the tray down on the coffee table carefully.

This was so awkward. She had no idea what to say. She got to her feet as she spoke.

"I was just in the neighbourhood… I don't know why I came. I should go."

He stepped towards her and reached for her arm, his touch stopping her in her tracks.

"Liv," he said. His voice was thick with emotion.

She looked up at him nervously.

"Are you okay?" he asked, gazing at her intently. She could feel him reading her; honing in on the shadows under her eyes, the misery behind her smile that she was trying so hard to hide. He was breaking through her defences and she didn't like the feeling of being so exposed. She suddenly felt extremely close to tears and could actually feel the dampness accumulating in her eyes. She tried to turn away, wanting privacy to blink them away, but he reached for her face and held his hand there against her cheek, preventing her from moving, staring at her with concern. She felt embarrassed. What was she doing here clinging onto a broken friendship that could never be? She never should have come.

The tear rolled down her cheek and she hated it. She hated the fact that she had come here and that she was now crying in front of him. She was aware of the shift in his position and the increasing proximity as he leaned into her and awkwardly took her into his arms. She could feel his chest pressing against her, the warmth of his body and the distinctive smell of him, combined with his aftershave. Some things didn't change it seemed. Succumbing to her overwhelming need to feel his arms around her, she closed her eyes, leaning in ever so slightly and for a minute she revelled in the sensation of being there in his embrace.

He released her and reluctantly she opened her eyes as he led her towards the sofa and guided her down, sinking down beside her. He handed her a tissue and she wiped her nose and the remaining tears.

"What happened?" he asked, a puzzled but concerned expression in his eyes that told her he still cared, despite everything.

The image of Lewis with the gun pointing straight at her face immediately flashed into her head and she found herself unable to answer him straight away. She desperately tried to pull herself together enough to give him an explanation. He waited patiently for her to speak.

"I'm sorry I just turned up here out of the blue," she said finally.

"I'm not," he said. Her heart almost skipped a beat as she wondered if he truly meant that.

"I thought you might be angry," she continued.

"Why would you think that?"

"It's been so long."

"I know. I should have called you. I'm sorry." The expression on his face suggested he meant it.

"It's okay," she said quickly.

"But it isn't, is it?"

She didn't answer, instead once again finding herself attempting to blink away fresh tears, hoping he wouldn't notice them.

"I've missed you," he said softly

She raised her head again and saw the honesty in his eyes letting her know he was deadly serious and suddenly she wanted so badly to tell him. She wanted him to know why she had suddenly come here after all this time. She wanted him to understand.

"There was an incident," she said simply, her hands clasped in her lap, watching his face as the words sunk in. She could tell by his confused expression of fear and disbelief that he had immediately assumed the worst. It occurred to her just how easily events could have gone exactly how he was imagining – and probably worse given Lewis' track record, she thought, with a shudder.

"It's okay," she said. "I fought him off. He's in custody." She knew she wasn't fooling him though. She knew he could tell she was anything but okay.

"Shit, Liv," he said, stunned by her revelation. "What happened exactly?"

"We were after a perp." She paused as she wondered just how much detail to share with him. Then she decided he should hear all of it. "He raped and tortured a witness for eighteen hours. She died three days later, officially from a heart attack – but I know it was a result of everything she went through though. He walked, El. We had bucket-loads of DNA, yet the defence managed to get it thrown out and so he walked. You should have seen what he did to that woman. It was horrible." She paused as she took a deep breath to try and belay the shakiness she felt at recalling the awful sight of that poor woman after Lewis had finished with her.

"Go on," he encouraged her gently. He seemed to sense that she needed to get this out.

"After the case fell through, Cragen ordered me home for a couple of days," she continued. You know what he's like." He grinned. Although by the sound of this case, he was probably right to surmise that she needed a break after dealing with that monster.

"So I picked up some groceries and headed home and he was there with a gun pointed at my head. I knew what he had planned for me, El. I couldn't let him do that to me. I knew I had to fight, even if it led to him shooting me. I just couldn't face it." Once again the tears began rolling down her cheeks.

"I'm so sorry, Liv," he said heavily, placing his arm on hers gently.

"Everyone was saying how brave I was for fighting the creep off, but I wasn't brave; I would genuinely rather have died than go through what that bastard had planned."

"I would have felt the same way."

She turned her head away, still self-conscious about the tears.

"I'm sorry for just turning up here like this," she said.

"I'm glad you came. I just wish it were for a different reason."

"I just had to see you. I didn't want to leave things how we left them. I could have died and…"

"It's OK," he soothed.

"I saw Kathleen outside."

"You did?"

"I was about to leave actually. She encouraged me to come in."

"I'm glad she did."

"How are they all doing?"

"The twins are having a ball at college. Eli and Kathy are staying at her mum's right now."

"That's nice," she said quietly. She wondered how Kathy would feel about her turning up like this.

"A lot's changed," Elliot said cryptically.

"Yeah," she said, deciding not to press him for details right now.

"I wanted to call you and nearly did so many times," he said. "I just thought it would be easier for you if I didn't."

Remembering all the calls she had made that had gone unanswered, she wasn't entirely sure whether to take him at his word or not.

"My head was in a terrible place," he continued. "By the time I sorted myself out, several months had passed. You had stopped calling and I worried it was too late. I didn't want to hurt you again…"

"Where do we go from here, El?" she asked suddenly. She nervously awaited his answer. Losing him again would be hard… but at least she was expecting it this time.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "I mean… I'd like us to be friends, if possible."

"Me too," she said relieved, realizing with certainty that however hard it was, it had to be better than having him out of her life completely.


	5. Choosing to stay

5

She reached for her glass and sipped slowly at her orange juice, enjoying the sweet taste. It was still a little surreal to think she was really here in Elliot's living room after all this time. She was glad she had come for it was wonderful to see him again, but she couldn't help feeling a little uncomfortable, almost guilty, about being here in his family home given the way she felt. His friendliness was in some ways making it worse. Part of her was thinking that they had made their peace so it was time to leave, but she found herself unwilling to move just yet. She knew she was hopelessly drawn to his presence and that she didn't really have any conscious choice over the matter.

For some inexplicable reason she suddenly started to feel self-conscious about her appearance. She wondered if her mascara had run with all the tears, if her face was blotchy, if her hair had been ruffled much at all.

"May I use the bathroom," she asked.

"Sure," he said. "Just down the corridor, second door on the left."

"I remember."

"Of course," he said looking slightly embarrassed.

It had been a while since she had been inside his home though. To be honest during the later years of their partnership she had avoided coming here as much as possible.

She headed towards the bathroom, wondering if his eyes were on her as she stepped away from the living room. It suddenly occurred to her that she had impulsively headed over here in her most casual wear without bothering to change into something more flattering, the kind of clothes he had been more accustomed to seeing her in when they worked together. She also had her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail rather than spending the time she usually did in making sure it looked perfect. Her fears were confirmed when she stepped inside the bathroom and saw her reflection in the mirror over the sink. No wonder he had known something was wrong. She hardly looked her best.

She splashed some water on her face. It was cool and refreshing and she enjoyed the sensation. She hoped it would reduce the puffiness of her eyes a little. She dried her face with a spare towel from the rack behind her and stared intently into the mirror back at her harshest critic, noting the lines and blemishes that tended to unfairly take her focus away from the whole picture. She felt tired, she looked tired and once again the self-doubts crept in. What was she doing here? She continued to stare back at her reflection, memories hitting her randomly. All those years as partners and it had come down to her standing in his bathroom like this, wondering how things had ended up as they did. When he had taken her into his arms the way he had, it had felt safe and right. She found herself longing to be back there, yet at the same time, a voice was warning her to run, to get as far away as she could, for this was only ever going to end badly.

She heard the gentle knocking and him calling her name. She had no idea how long she had been standing there. She guessed it must have been a while if he had come looking for her. She turned and unlocked the door, opening it slowly. The concern was clearly etched into his face.

"Liv, I'm worried about you," he said.

"I'm fine." It was her standard answer and it fell off her lips as easily as ever.

"No, you're not," he said.

This time she didn't argue.

…

She followed him back into the living room.

"Have you talked to a counsellor?" he asked.

"No," she replied distantly. There it was. He was already looking for a way out of this. It was hardly fair of her anyway to come here and expect him to support her after all this time, after everything that had happened. Once again she was struck by just how idiotic she had been to think that coming here was in any way the right thing to do.

She stood.

"I'd better get going," she said.

"Oh, no you don't!" he said firmly.

She looked at him questioningly, a little taken-aback by his harsh tone.

"Liv, you came here because you're clearly hurting. There is no way I'm letting you leave. I know I haven't been here for you, but from now on I want to be. You need to believe that."

"Please, El. This is…" _too hard _she wanted to say, but she couldn't. It was probably ridiculous to think she hadn't already revealed her true feelings to him, but the attempt was automatic.

"Please, Liv. I don't want to go back to having you out of my life."

"You have a family, El. You should concentrate on them." She kept her gaze low, refusing to make eye contact with him and risk him seeing the raw emotion in her eyes.

He didn't reply straight away. She knew her words had hit home.

"I have room in my life for my friends too," he told her. She noticed how unusually shaky his voice sounded, but the word _friends_ resonated in her head. Could she really do this? Could she be friends with a man with whom she knew she wanted so much more?

She knew she couldn't walk away though, especially when he was literally begging her not to.

"I'm not going anywhere," she said finally, hoping that it wouldn't be something she would later regret.

…

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Not really," she replied.

"How about a beer?"

She shook her head. "Drinking is probably not a good idea for me right now," she said.

"You don't mind if I get one?"

She shook her head and watched him disappear into the kitchen. He returned quickly, flashing a smile as he sat down and cracked the can.

"So how are they all?" he asked before taking a long sip.

"They're good," she replied, knowing immediately that he meant his former work colleagues. She was glad of the change of topic to something a little less emotional.

"So you have a new partner?"

"Yeah… He's youngish, but he's a good guy."

She could see the brief flinch that told her that his being replaced by someone else bothered him. It reconfirmed what she already knew: he missed their unique partnership too.

"How's Eli doing at school?" she asked looking at the picture of his son on the wall again. He had a huge smile on his face, emanating a childish happiness that captivated her.

"He's doing great," Elliot said enthusiastically. "He loves it. He's made loads of friends."

"That's wonderful." She paused for a second.

"How long are they away?"

"A few more days," he replied.

"You must miss them."

"Yeah," he replied with a sigh.

The ensuing silence was broken by the sound of her phone. She glanced at it.

"Sorry," she said, "Do you mind if I get this?" Brian had called as he had promised. She didn't want to worry him by not answering.

"Go ahead!" he said, sinking back a little in the chair and bringing the beer can to his lips again as he tried to look like he wasn't really paying any attention to the side of the conversation he could hear.

She felt his eyes on her as she replaced the phone in her bag after the call.

"Have you been seeing him long?" he asked.

She shook her head, wishing that the man could be slightly less intuitive sometimes.

"I'm glad for you."

"It's not serious," she said quickly, surprising herself.

"Do you love him?" he asked.

She didn't reply. It didn't really feel fair to Brian to be talking about her feelings towards him with someone else. The question highlighted to her what she already knew deep down though. She knew she would have to talk to Brian soon. She felt bad. He was a good guy. It wasn't his fault.

"Like I said, it isn't serious," she repeated.

"You deserve to be happy Liv."

"I am happy."

"You know what I meant."

"Maybe it's just not meant to be for me."

"You don't really believe that."

She shrugged.

"I'm so sorry, Liv."

She didn't reply. She was certain the main intent behind his apology was sympathy, but there was something about his tone which told her that maybe it went much deeper than that.

…

"Are you still not hungry?" he asked.

"I guess I could eat something."

"I could make some pasta."

"That sounds good."

"Do you want to help me?"

"Sure."

She followed him into the kitchen and set to work cutting the vegetables in the way he instructed, glad to have something to do with her hands. He switched the radio on and they listened to music as they worked, not really conversing; only really talking when it was directly related to the cooking.

It was strangely enjoyable though she decided.

With the sauce simmering and the pasta boiling away, Olivia washed the dishes they had used so far while Elliot dried. Occasionally as she handed over a newly washed item, their hands would accidentally brush and every time it sent a nervous shudder through her, causing butterflies in her stomach. When she handed him the vegetable knife carefully, his touch lingered on her fingers briefly and nervously she raised her eyes to his face. For a moment his eyes met hers and she was convinced she could see desire there. Suddenly terrified, she pulled her hand away and concentrated on cleaning the next item.

He moved over to the stove to check the pasta and declaring it finally ready, she placed the drainer in the sink ready. She stood back a little as he poured away the hot water, the steam rising as he did so.

"Can you grab the plates out of that cupboard?" he asked nodding towards the cupboard behind her. She did as he asked and he served out the pasta and sauce. They carried their plates over to the table.

"This smells good," she said.

"I hope you like it."

"I had no idea you were such a proficient chef," she smiled.

"This is about the only thing I can make," he grinned back, eliciting another smile from her.

…

After eating and clearing away the dishes, they returned to the sofa and switched on the TV. Elliot handed Olivia a cushion and she leaned back wearily against it.

"You should sleep," Elliot said watching her yawn. "Stay. There's plenty of room."

"I don't know, El…"

"Come on. It's late."

"But I don't even have a toothbrush!"

"There's probably a spare one in the cupboard."

She remained silent. It felt wrong somehow in the absence of Kathy.

"It's really fine," he said. "Please, I insist. You can use Maureen's old room."

"Well if you're sure," she said, doubtfully, attempting to stifle another yawn. She was admittedly exhausted.

He showed her to his eldest daughter's old bedroom and then brought her a towel and the toothbrush he had promised, plus a spare pair of pyjamas.

"Thanks," she said awkwardly.

"They're Kathleen's," he said. "I know they might be a bit small, but hopefully they'll do."

"They'll be fine," she said, glad they weren't his wife's. That would have been a little too strange.

He left her to get changed and ready for bed. Once she was done, she popped her head round the living room door.

"Night, El," she said. "Thank you for tonight!"

"Liv… I meant what I said. I'm here for you. I won't walk away again."

She nodded forcing a slight smile, before returning to the bedroom and closing the door behind her.


	6. Heartbreak

6

_A few weeks later_

Over the last few weeks she had come to believe that Elliot had meant what he said about staying in her life this time. He had called her every couple of days since she had gone over there and they had met for coffee a few times too. She knew it would take her a while to really trust that he intended to maintain their relationship indefinitely. Two years with no contact was a long time and it did still hurt however much she wanted to understand his reasons and give him the benefit of the doubt. The week after she had stayed over at Elliot's house she had finally found the courage to meet with Brian and break up with him. He had taken it hard and she had felt terrible, but she knew it was better than carrying on pretending she felt more than she did. She missed him, despite being certain she had made the right decision. Her evenings seemed that much lonelier now – unless Elliot gave her a call anyway. It wasn't right to stay with someone out of loneliness though. He deserved better.

She had just finished washing and clearing away the dishes after her evening meal when her doorbell rang. Two short and then one long buzz, telling her it had to be Elliot. She hadn't been expecting him and had no idea why he might be here now. Much more cautious since Lewis had broken into her apartment, she headed over to the video monitor. She had managed to band together with the other residents in her apartment block and they had gotten the system installed just over a week ago. It allowed her to see exactly who was down there before buzzing them in and it gave her much more piece of mind.

She quickly confirmed she had been correct in her assumption. It was Elliot.

"Come on up," she said through the intercom. She was glad to see him, but she wished he had given her some notice so she could have tidied up a bit and changed into something nicer. She quickly scooped up a few odd items that were out on the table and took them into her bedroom, hiding them in her closet.

She opened her door and waited in the doorway for him to arrive. Once he stepped out of the elevator, it didn't take long for her to notice that he looked off-balance. She watched him as he drew closer, coming to a stop right in front of her. He swayed slightly and had to take a slight step back to stop himself from falling. The smell of whiskey on his breath confirmed what she had already suspected.

"Liv," he slurred.

"You're drunk," she stated flatly.

"Yes I am," he agreed with a shrug.

"What do you want, El?"

"Well that's not very friendly, aren't you going to invite me in?"

Wordlessly, she stood aside allowing him space to enter her apartment. She turned around to close and lock the door. When she turned back towards the room she almost jumped out of her skin as he was standing right there almost on top of her.

"Shit El," she exclaimed.

"You look nice," he said appreciatively, ignoring her previous comment. She blushed slightly as she saw his eyes running up and down her entire figure.

"Do you want some water?" she asked, attempting to push past him to head towards the kitchen.

"Water?" The perplexed look on his face almost made her giggle.

"Yeah, water, you know that wet stuff," she teased, moving away to follow through on her offer. He followed right behind her, standing so close that when she turned back around from taking the glass out of the cupboard she almost stepped on his foot.

"What is with you?" she said impatiently.

"Sorry," he mumbled. She filled the glass with water from the tap and handed it to him, pleased to see him take a long sip. Now she had the chance to observe him properly, she realised there was something about his posture that emanated sadness. She knew there was obviously something wrong and it no doubt explained his inebriated state.

"Has something happened?" she asked. She could count on one hand the number of times she had seen him this drunk and every time had been after something particularly stressful had happened at work.

He sighed in an exaggerated fashion as he headed back out into the living area and sank down heavily onto an armchair. She perched herself on the sofa beside it and waited for him to explain what was troubling him.

"El," she said after a moment, more tenderly this time and leaning forward as she spoke. "Tell me, what is it?"

He took another deep breath before he finally spoke.

"She left me."

Olivia's heart immediately sank at his words. Despite her own feelings towards him, she knew how much he valued his marriage and his family. She knew how devastating this must be for him. It wasn't the first time she had stood by his side and watched him reach rock-bottom as a result of his failing marriage and it pained her to be in the exact same position again. Part of her wished he would end it once and for all and he would stop putting himself through this rollercoaster, but she worried that this train of thought was actually just a result of her own feelings. Of course his being free and single would be to her advantage, but she couldn't help but feel guilty for thinking like that. Besides, his words had been all too revealing. He had said 'she left me', not the other way round. She knew she had to try and be a friend and a real friend would surely attempt to put their own feelings to one side and offer genuine support.

"What happened?" she asked nervously. There was no guarantee he would be willing to share the details. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to hear them. Playing the part of the concerned friend and partner, urging him to go and talk to his wife and do all he could to make amends, was not a role she enjoyed.

"It's been inevitable for a while," he said sadly. "Things just reached a head I guess. I mean it was probably over the first time we split if I am completely honest. If it hadn't been for Eli…"

"El, come on, you're upset. You guys have worked through fights before." She knew she was saying the right thing, but it seemed every time she had to stick up for his sham of a marriage with Kathy, it chipped away another tiny piece of her heart.

"It's over Liv. Finished." He lowered his head placing it in his hands as he spoke.

Liv watched him alarmed. His words terrified her yet thrilled her at the same time. Her mind was already racing with possibilities that scared her to death. She looked at him awkwardly. Was he crying? Should she hug him? Say something? She had no idea what would be appropriate.

"El?" she said. "Are you okay?" She cringed. It sounded like a particularly feeble attempt at comfort even to her own ears.

He didn't respond and so deciding it called for a little more effort, she stood and crossed the short distance separating them, crouching down in front of him and placing a hand on the front of his left leg.

"El?" she repeated softly.

Slowly he raised his head and looked straight at her, once again making her extremely nervous. She was terrified he would read her, see through her attempts to comfort him and recognize the truth.

"I'm okay," he said. "I mean I'll be fine. It's for the best."

"I'm so sorry, El" she said simply. She wondered if he really meant what he had just said.

He suddenly reached forward and took both of her hands into his. He looked at her long and intently, his gaze unflinching as his eyes bore into her. Unable to stand it any longer she looked down. But he moved a hand to her face, raising her chin gently so that she had to meet his eyes again.

"El," she whispered, silently begging him to stop toying with her like this. Didn't he know how his proximity was killing her, how his touch send shivers through her body, igniting areas she had been barely aware even existing? She couldn't prevent her eyes from falling on his lips, as she imagined what it would be like to feel them pressed against hers. Then she realised he was leaning in and before she could react his mouth was on hers and for a second or two she melted, responding eagerly, savouring the sensation of his hands moving around her back, pulling her in even closer. But it was wrong. He had just split from his wife and he was drunk. What was he doing? What was _she_ doing?

She pulled away.

"What's wrong?" he asked confusion apparent in his eyes.

"I…" she stammered.

"I know you want this too," he insisted, pulling her back towards him and slamming his lips back against hers possessively."

She managed to pull away enough to tell him, "stop!"

"Come on Liv," he said, ignoring her and attempting to once again access her lips.

"Elliot!" she said firmly. "Stop it! Please!"

Her tone finally hit home and she watched the horrified expression settle on his face as he took in the tears that had formed in her eyes and he realised he had gone too far.

"I'm so sorry," he said heavily, moving back and releasing her completely. "Liv, please forgive me. I shouldn't have done that."

"It's fine," she mumbled. She could barely speak. She knew she was seconds away from losing it completely. To finally feel his lips against hers but know it was a huge mistake. It hurt more than she could have imagined.

"But it's not fine. I'm so sorry. I think I should go." He hurriedly got to his feet as he spoke.

"No, you don't have to go…" she said weakly. Her head was spinning.

"Yes I do. I'm so sorry Liv. I hope you can forgive me."

She barely had time to react for he was out of the door so quickly.

Stunned she sank back down onto the sofa. What had just happened? He was drunk and upset. His behaviour screamed out 'rebound'. She knew she couldn't allow herself to ruin their relationship by entering territory they wouldn't be able to just bounce back from. Without a doubt he would regret it and she knew that would break her heart. How could he do this? She allowed the tears to roll down her cheeks unchecked as she remained on the sofa, her arms wrapped around her body, remembering the feel of his lips against hers and knowing it could never happen again.


	7. Wavering resolve

7

She opened her eyes groggily and glanced at her clock on the bedside table. It was only six thirty am. Then she heard the doorbell ring again and realised that was what must have woken her. Who visited at this unearthly time in the morning? Of course it had to be _him_, but surely an apology, which she assumed was the reason he was here, could wait a couple more hours? It wasn't like she was _that_ mad at him anyway. He had been drunk and upset and she understood why he had reached out to her like he had. It hurt but there were worse things in life than being kissed by a friend, she supposed. She stumbled sleepily over to the intercom and released the door after confirming it was indeed him. Then she hurried to the bathroom to brush her teeth, not wanting to forever traumatise the man with her morning breath. As an afterthought, she also quickly grabbed a cardigan and wrapped it loosely around her shoulders, since she was feeling a little exposed in her thin-strapped top.

She opened the door. He was slouching, one hand against the wall supporting his weight, the beginning of stubble already apparent on his chin, his clothes creased, an expression of abject misery on his face. It was apparent that he was not feeling too good, although the state he had turned up in last night, it was hardly surprising. He looked like he was about to throw up or pass out, maybe even both.

"Good grief, El," she muttered.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"Why are you here so early? You woke me!" she told him as she stepped aside to allow him room to pass. She hadn't really intended to speak so harshly, but the man had a cheek turning up at this hour and she wasn't going to pretend it didn't irk her, however pathetic he looked.

"I never left," he admitted sheepishly. "I slept, well sat, downstairs on the steps to your building."

"Geez, El," she said with a shudder at the thought of him spending the night on the street. She closed the door behind him and pulled the bolt across firmly.

"I had nowhere to go."

She didn't know what to say, so instead headed into the kitchen to get him a glass of water.

"I'm sorry to disturb you so early." He seated himself at the table, resting his chin in his elbows. "I couldn't hack it out there any longer."

She brought the water over and handed it to him.

"You look awful," she said, sitting down in the chair opposite him and raising and tucking her legs under her.

"Thanks," he said sarcastically, flashing a faint grin.

"Do you want something for your head?"

"Ugh no. I don't think I could keep it down," he said sipping very gingerly at the cool water.

There was a brief silence. She watched him struggle to find words. Strangely though, it wasn't really awkward. She guessed it was down to the early hour. She was in no mood for an argument and her irritation at being woken so early had largely dissipated when she had seen how rough he looked and on hearing that he had spent the night outside her apartment building.

"Shall I put some coffee on?" she suggested finally. He nodded gratefully.

She returned with a couple of mugs and placed his carefully on the table in front of him, before sitting back down in her chair with hers. It was an oddly chilly morning, despite the season and she used the heat from her coffee to warm her hands. He must have been extremely uncomfortable out there all night. She should have insisted he stay on her couch. He was obviously in no condition to get himself home safely.

"Liv, look, I couldn't leave without apologizing to you. My memory of last night is sketchy actually, but I do remember what I did to you and I want you to know how sorry I am and to say that it will never happen again."

"It's alright," she muttered, standing and heading back into the kitchen. His words hit hard. He had confirmed he considered it a huge mistake. He was mortified about it and that hurt. She didn't want him to see just how much, so she turned her back and busied herself by pretending to hunt for something in the cupboard.

"Liv?" he said questioningly.

She didn't reply. She was fighting as hard as she could to control her emotions. She wished he would just leave.

She heard him call her name again and a wave of anger suddenly washed through her. Who the hell did he think he was? He turned up here, kissed her, then woke her up at this ridiculous hour in the morning to tell her how sorry he was for making such a huge mistake in going near her. Really, exactly how did he expect her to feel? Could he really not have any inkling as to how she felt about him? It was like he was playing games with her. Perhaps he was getting off on the fact that she was hopelessly in love with him and was enjoying the power trip or something? He loved his wife. In all these years he had prioritized his marriage and never once shown her any real indication that he was interested in her beyond perhaps a very basic attraction. What was wrong with her? Why had she gone back there after all that time? Why was she doing this to herself?

"El, please just go home," she said, without even turning around. She didn't want to see the pleading look in his eyes and give in. She needed him to leave. She needed to be alone to get her head straight. She needed to get over him.

"Liv, I don't want to go like this. You're obviously angry. Can't we talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about. It's fine, okay? I'm not angry. It's not even seven in the morning and I went to bed late. I'm tired and I have plans today."

"Oh, yeah, of course," he said awkwardly. She could detect the doubt in his tone, but right now she didn't really care how he felt. This was about self-preservation.

"El, please," she said, her tone gentler now, hoping that a softer approach might convince him. "Go and talk to her."

"It's over Liv."

"All the same, go and talk to her."

"Can I call you later?"

"Sure," she said in a non-committed tone that didn't escape him.

"Why does this feel like another break-up?" he muttered.

"I'll see you soon, El," she said, ignoring his comment. She knew she needed distance from all of this. She needed to protect herself.

He stood and crossed over to the door.

"Thanks for the coffee."

"You're welcome."

"I'm sorry Liv, for everything," he repeated sincerely.

She forced a weak smile.

Then he left.

…

Once he had gone, she bolted the door once again and returned to the kitchen to refill her coffee. She was determined not to cry another tear over the situation, over him. She needed to be strong and move on. He had made his feelings perfectly clear and she had to accept it. She considered returning to bed, but after all the coffee, sleeping was probably not very likely. Instead she decided to shower. She decided then and there that today was going to be a new start. She would go out for a run and then do all the cleaning and other household chores she had been intending to get done for weeks but had never gotten around to. In other words she would keep herself as busy as possible to keep her mind off events of the last couple of days, weeks in fact. Maybe later on she would go out. She could go to the movie theatre and get a nice meal, treat herself. From now on she was going to change her attitude. In fact she was going to change her life.

The run was refreshing. The cleaning made her feel a sense of achievement. She had finally tidied up the back of her closet, a task she had been putting off for so long that it took several hours to sort out. Once she was done, she stepped back to admire her work, staring in satisfaction at the now tidy array of shoes, boxes and other contents of her wardrobe. She decided then that she would go out. She was going to prove to herself that Lewis wasn't going to destroy her life and that her hopeless attraction to Elliot also wasn't going to hold her back. She was going to dress up nicely, grab a book, call a cab and go to her favourite restaurant. Then she was going to swing by the movie theatre. She had no idea what was playing, but she didn't really care. Anything would do. She had to prove to herself that she could get on with her life.

The restaurant was busy, but the food was good. She tried not to even think about the fact she was the only one in there alone. Most of the other tables were occupied by couples or the odd group of female friends. She kept her nose in her book, enjoying the food, the low music and the chance to read. Whenever thoughts of Elliot came into her head, she tried to force them out of her mind, but she couldn't help wondering if he had gone back to talk to Kathy. Maybe they had even sorted everything out by now? It was very possible. It wasn't the first time they had been through a rough patch after all and Elliot had proved last night that he didn't do being alone very well. It wouldn't have surprised her in the least if after she had kicked him out he had ran straight back to his wife.

After the meal she walked down the street to the movie theatre. It was less than a five minute walk and along a brightly lit and busy street, so she didn't feel nervous about being out alone. She had no idea about any of the films, so chose one with a title that she thought suggested a story as far away from a love story as you can get. By twenty minutes into the movie, she realised she had made a huge mistake. It was primarily an action film, but the relationship between the two main protagonists was heading in a very predictable direction. She sighed. When the pair kissed and he ended it and walked away, it was like a cruel parallel of her life. Like her, the protagonists were facing an impossible journey, a love that could never be, except unlike her life, this was a movie and a happy ending was all but guaranteed. She left at that point, asking the theatre staff to call her a cab.

She had deliberately left her phone at home, suspecting that Elliot might try to contact her and not wanting to even know about it if he did. The whole point of going out was to forget him. When she got back though, she couldn't help herself and so she checked it and sure enough there were four missed calls from him. She sighed. Putting him out of her mind was going to be much harder than she thought. She switched the sound off and flung it down on her bedside table, before disappearing into the bathroom to wash and brush her teeth and get ready for bed. The place was so quiet. Despite her resolve to go out and have a good time, she couldn't help but think how ultimately it had ended with her coming home to a quiet and lonely apartment.

When she finally slipped under the sheets, she pulled the duvet right up to her neck. She noticed the flashing of her phone and reached for it. It was Elliot again. She deliberated for a moment. She knew she really needed to let this thing with him go. The stillness of the place had really got to her though. She knew that despite everything she genuinely wanted to hear his voice.

Berating herself silently even as she pressed the answer call button, she pressed the phone hard against her ear.

"Hi," she mumbled and then waited nervously to see what he had to say.


	8. Drawn

8

"Hey," was all he said and it was suddenly strikingly clear to her that she would never really be able to walk away. It would have to be him to do it, or it would just never happen. It then occurred to her that perhaps that was really why he had left in the way he had. Maybe he did know how she felt and had wanted to make the break for her, knowing that she never would. Maybe he had wanted her to find someone else and be happy, but had known that while he was in her life, she wouldn't find it easy, if not impossible. It was true that she had ventured into real and promising relationships since he had gone; first Haden, then Brian. Of course both had ended and ultimately she was back where she started, fixated on him, but for a while it had worked at least.

"Liv?" she heard him say. She was so lost in thought that she realised he was still waiting for her to say something.

"I'm here," she replied and she knew that right now she didn't mean just on the other end of the phone.

"How are you?" he asked. A simple enough question, except it showed her just how awkward things really were between them that he was resorting to standard small-talk.

"Tired," she said pointedly, regretting it as soon as the words left her lips. She wasn't entirely sure why she wanted him to think she was angry with him or that she didn't want to talk. Maybe none of this was his fault. It was all hers.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I can call again tomorrow."

"No it's ok, she said more softly.

"So what did you do today?" He was still resorting to small talk. She welcomed the simplicity.

"Not much. I went out for a run, did some cleaning – cleaned out my closet actually."

"Wow, you must have been bored!"

She chuckled as was expected. She had to admit she enjoyed this kind of light-hearted teasing banter between them. After all those years of partnership, they both knew exactly how to wind one another up.

"How about you?" she asked.

"I found a motel. It's just for a few days until I can get myself sorted. "I suppose I will have to start looking for something a bit more permanent, but I just couldn't face it today."

"So you didn't speak to Kathy then?" she asked. She was actually surprised. He seemed resigned. For the first time she started to think that he was serious and wondered if this time the split might really be for good.

"No."

"I'm sorry, El," she said. She was. Regardless of how she felt, she did genuinely want him to be happy. She couldn't imagine what it must be like to live with someone your whole adult life and then suddenly find yourself alone. She wondered if it might actually even be worse than being alone from the start, since he knew exactly what he was missing.

"It's been on the cards for a while. You know, I miss the kids, well Eli for sure, since the others are obviously grown up and off living their own lives pretty much now, but Kathy and I have been over for a while. We both changed so much…"

Olivia shifted uncomfortably. She always found it awkward discussing his marriage. She much preferred not to really think about it, if she was honest. Luckily Elliot didn't seem to be bothered by her lack of response.

"… You know we never should have got back together, but she was pregnant and I had to do the right thing by Eli."

"I know," she interrupted. "You're a good man, Elliot. You're a good father."

"That means a lot."

"Your kids are lucky to have you as their dad."

"Do you really think so though? I mean, I was hardly there when they were growing up. I spent more time with you than I did with my family."

She cringed. It wasn't the first time he had pointed this out to her and every time it inevitably made her feel guilty, as though she were deliberately taking him away from his family against his will. She knew that Kathy had resented the amount of time her husband spent with his partner and even his own son had accused them of sleeping together, a face-off that somehow she had managed to tackle without letting anyone watching know just how much it had upset her to be accused like that by his son. For a while afterwards she had tried to keep her distance from Elliot, worrying that perhaps everyone assumed there was something more going on between them. She would be lying if she hadn't imagined them together and in fact that image had sustained her through many lonely nights in her apartment, but she knew that she could never ever do anything to break up his marriage. She had suffered the reality of a one-parent upbringing herself and there was no way she would force that onto Elliot's children.

"You're a wonderful father," she repeated firmly. "No one is perfect but you love your kids and they love you. Anyone can see that."

"Thanks Liv. That means a lot."

"How are they taking the separation?"

"The girls are supportive. They've seen our relationship deteriorate over the last few years. Kathleen pointed out that now we've separated things will be so much better as we can be friends now rather than at each other's throats."

"Was it that bad?" Olivia asked with a wry smile.

"Almost," he replied soberly. "Look, never mind about me. How about you? Have you thought about work?"

"I'm taking the leave Cragen offered, at full pay," she replied.

"That's good. You shouldn't push yourself. Take your time."

"I intend to, although I will be bored to death in a couple of days, I expect. There is only so much cleaning required in a small place like mine."

"Ha, yeah. Well to be honest I am still trying to get my head round the idea of you cleaning. Say, do you wear an apron?"

"No," she said, chuckling at the thought. "I don't go quite that far."

"Aw, shame. I'd like to see you in an apron."

"Well that isn`t happening!" she said in an indignant tone. "Honestly, we spent years side by side, fighting the worst criminals the city has to offer and yet you still want to see me as a good little women tucked away in a kitchen with an apron on? You must be out of your mind!"

"Hey, hey. I was joking. You know I don't think like that. You're one of the best cops I've ever worked with."

Olivia smiled, pleased at the compliment. "Well just you remember…" she warned him teasingly. "I could kick your ass any day."

"Oh you could, could you?" he said. She could imagine the smirk he probably had spread across his face right now and it made her smile again. Somewhere at the back of her mind it occurred to her that this conversation had definitely entered into the realm of "flirting" but she was enjoying herself too much to consider putting an end to it.

"You bet!" she said confidently.

"Liv, can I ask you something?" It was immediately apparent his tone had turned more serious. It immediately made her nervous.

"Sure," she said quietly. She had no idea what he was going to say and after all the flirtation, she wondered if he might even turn the conversation to them.

"Who are you seeing?"

"As in boyfriend?" she asked. She knew exactly what he had meant, but she was buying time, weighing up the idea of telling him. She had almost forgotten he had vaguely known that she was seeing someone. She remembered the call from Brian she had received while she was at his house that night she had stayed over and the ensuing conversation. She hadn't told him they had broken it off since. She hadn't wanted to mention it as she was worried about his reaction. Back in the first year of their partnership, he had known all about her little fling with Brian Cassidy and although he had mostly kept quiet on the subject, she knew he hadn't exactly approved. He had never really liked the younger cop much.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," he said. "It's not really any of my business."

"We split up," she said quickly."

"Oh right, I'm sorry," he said. She could tell he was trying to sound nonchalant, as though the idea of her seeing other men didn't bother him in the least .

"It's ok," she said. "It's not a secret."

"Oh right."

"I broke up with him a couple of weeks ago."

She supposed his silence meant he must be fully aware of the fact that the break up also coincided closely with her contacting him.

"I'm sorry Liv. You deserve someone who'll make you happy."

"It's fine."

"Why did you break up?"

There he had asked it. She might have guessed he wouldn't have left the subject alone.

"It's someone you know actually," she said, avoiding the actual question and deciding that she may as well just tell him the truth about who it was. These things had a way of coming back at you, she knew from experience. Anyway a very small part of her enjoyed making him a little jealous.

"Really? Who? It's not your new partner, is it?"

"No!" she said firmly. "You know I would never go there." As soon as she said it, she wished she could take it back.

He chuckled.

"Never say, never."

Her stomach flipped. What did he mean by that? She closed her eyes, trying to steady her nerves.

"Liv, come on, tell me then. Who is it?"

"Fine. It's Brian…"

"Brian?" He sounded confused. She couldn't blame him. It was years since they had last worked together. It was hardly the most obvious choice.

"Brian Cassidy," she informed him.

"Cassidy…" He still sounded completely lost. Then it sunk in. "Seriously? …Him?" He sounded incredulous.

"There's no need to be so shocked!" she told him, embarrassed that he sounded so scathing about the idea. "He's a decent guy. He cared about me."

"I'm sure he did, but Brian? Seriously"

She remained silent. His reaction had been just as she had feared. Not that she realistically expected it to really be any different whoever it was. It still annoyed her that he had to be so openly disparaging about her choices though.

"Are you still there?" he asked finally.

"What do you expect me to say?"

"I'm sorry. I was just surprised, that's all. Honestly, I just want you to be happy, Liv. I just can't see you and him together, that's all.

"Well, we're not now, are we?" she said blandly.

"What happened?"

"Just stuff," Olivia replied. So what if he knew the truth? What did it matter really? The fact they were on the phone seemed to be giving her the confidence to reveal things she wasn't entirely sure she would have were they face to face, so after a brief pause she continued.

"After the thing with Lewis, everything changed. I don't think he could deal with it – deal with me."

"What? Oh Liv, I'm sorry. You deserve better." He sounded almost angry now.

"It's not his fault," she said quickly. "We were just dating. He didn't know he'd end up dealing with PTSD."

"PTSD?" She could hear the fear and surprise in his voice.

"Yes," she said so quietly it was almost a whisper. "I mean, I've been fine for a while now, but then the incident with Lewis brought it all back."

"PTSD?" he echoed, obviously still stunned. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You know why."

"I…"

"It's OK."

"But, it's not. How could you not tell me?"

_How could you not see it? _She couldn't help but think.

"I had no idea," he said sadly.

"I hid it."

"All the same, I was your partner. I should have seen it."

"I should have told you, I'm sorry." She could hear how genuinely upset he was about her revelation and it took her aback.

"El?"

"Yes."

"I wanted to tell you."

"It was Seal View, wasn't it? I knew something was off? What happened there Liv? Did he rape you?"

Her eyes filled with tears and she struggled to hold them back. It was remarkable how a conversation all these years later could bring back the memories as though it were yesterday. Maybe she really wouldn't ever truly get over it? Maybe it would always be there in the background, waiting to jump out and surprise her when she least expected it.

"Liv?" he urged.

"No," she answered softly. "But if Fin hadn't arrived when he did, he would have."

She took a deep breath, waiting for him to say something. She could hear him breathing on the other end. She guessed he was trying to get his head around it all and so didn't press for a response.

"I'm glad Fin was there for you," he said finally.

"El, you couldn't have done anything," she said quickly, sensing instinctively that he was already beating himself up over not being able to protect her.

"I should have been in there with you."

"I wanted you there," she whispered, no longer caring that he could hear she was speaking through tears. "I prayed you would come, even though I knew it was ridiculous, that you were miles away."

"I'm sorry Liv." There was a catch in his voice. The pure emotion emanating from him caught her completely by surprise.

"Don't apologise. It was a long time ago. I'm mostly over it."

They both knew it was a lie.

"Tell me about it."

"I will, but not now. I'm tired."

"Okay," he said. "Do you want me to call back tomorrow and let you get some sleep?" She could hear the disappointment in his tone.

"No, El. I don't mean you have to go. Just let's change the subject." She glanced at her watch. Time had gone by, but she wasn't tired and she wasn't quite ready to end the call. It was strangely soothing to hear his voice on the other end and the way they had been opening up to each other reminded her of the old days, the days when she had been able to tell him things.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"At home," she said confused.

"No, I mean where in your apartment?"

"In my bedroom," she replied.

"In bed?"

"Yes."

"Good, I can tell you're tired. Why don't you lie down and get comfy?"

"Well okay," she said, smiling and snuggling under her covers. With her head resting on her pillow, the phone pressed tightly to her ear, she realised she was sleepier than she had thought.

"It's been nice to talk tonight," he said.

"Yes, it has," she agreed.

"You know I really missed you." She knew he was referring now to after the shooting, all those months when she had heard nothing from him. Instantly it all came back. His walking out of her life like that still hurt tremendously.

"I'm glad you came to see me the other week," he continued.

"Me too," she said.

There was one thing she had realised during the phone call and that was that whatever was going on between them - and right now she wasn't entirely sure exactly what it was – She knew she wanted, needed, him in her life in whatever capacity he was willing to be there. She had been kidding herself about moving on. Her feelings towards him were too deeply ingrained into her whole being. When he had walked away it was like having a limb ripped from her body. Nothing had made sense. Laying here, chatting to him she knew that they were hopelessly intertwined. What was the point in fighting it? She would have to learn to accept what he was able to give. It had to be better than nothing, surely?

"Liv? Are you still there?" he asked. She realised she had barely heard a word he had been saying.

"Mmmm," she murmured.

"You should go to sleep. We can talk again tomorrow. I'll call you, okay?"

"OK." She could barely keep her eyes open. She felt strangely happy. It was a load off her mind to finally tell him some of the things she had been holding back on for so long. He had listened and he was still there. He hadn't run. That had to mean something."

"Night, Liv," she heard him say.

"Night, El," she replied.

"Sleep well."

"You too."

She placed her phone down on the bedside cabinet and closed her eyes. Within minutes she was asleep, the image of his arms wrapped tightly around her carrying through into her dreams. eHe


	9. An unexpected visitor

9

A week had passed. At first she had vacillated between recurring moments of intense anger towards him and of resignation at her own inability to walk away. Her thoughts kept returning to that kiss and despite the plethora of emotion that surrounded the memory, the one that ultimately overrode everything was the warm sense of satisfaction that came from knowing that even if he had been drunk or on the rebound, he must have felt at least some kind of pull to her on a subconscious level. She knew he cared for her. They had talked every night since that pivotal call a week ago. They had conversed for hours about everything under the sun. Talking to him was so easy. She found herself lulled into revealing things over the phone that she doubted she ever would have done had they been talking face to face. She had started to wonder when he would suggest meeting up again for real, for it seemed almost inevitable now, but so far he had held off and she was glad, for she knew she wasn't ready. She told herself she was enjoying their chats and she just didn't want them to end, but the truth was she was terrified of actually embracing the path she was almost certain now that they were heading down.

The subtle transition was so gradual it had caught her by surprise. If this had been anyone else but Elliot it would have been easier to acknowledge that they had undeniably moved to a place beyond friendship. She knew she was falling even deeper, with neither any way of preventing it, nor wanting to. Her only slight doubt was whether it was in fact all in her mind. That he was simply trying to make up for the past or simply determined to help her through a difficult time; an attempt to re-establish their friendship by showing his unfaltering support, nothing more. She wasn't convinced that was really the case though. Something impalpable had changed between them over the last few days. It felt to her like there was a silent understanding that they were heading in a certain direction, but that it would be a slow ride. Years of partnership were a hard barrier to break down. The risks were high. Taking their time seemed prudent.

She was strangely content, however, as she lay on her bed spending the hours before she slept with her phone pressed against her ear. She loved the sound of his voice. It bathed her in a sense of serenity and calm. It was like invisible arms were wrapped around her holding her close and letting her know that her existence did mean something to someone, that someone actually did care about what she had to say and how she felt. It temporarily dispelled her innate sense of loneliness, a state of being she had come to accept over the years as a compulsory part of her very existence. It made her feel alive, as though she could face anything life threw at her, as long as he was there. The past week had been like a dreamy haze, an alternate reality that she had embraced wholeheartedly. Somewhere at the back of her mind, she worried that she was getting entirely too carried away and that she was only going to end up hurt, but she was powerless to prevent it. She was far too invested.

Unfortunately an unexpected visitor changed everything.

…

She stared in surprise through the spy hole. When the doorbell had rung, part of her had suspected it might be _him_, but instead the image of his son sent a wave of apprehension through her that thoroughly unsettled her. She could feel the uncomfortable sensation of sweat on her palms as she slid the bolt across and was all too aware of how dry her mouth had turned as she forced herself to greet the young man cheerfully, trying to appear unperturbed, but in no way confident she was being successful.

Politely, she invited him in, offering to make him a drink, hoping to take the opportunity to do something practical for it would give her vital minutes to try and pull herself together and try to come up with a reason as to why on earth he was here. She had already determined that his presence obviously wasn't for the purpose of a friendly 'catch-up for old times' sake' visit. She hadn't seen him in a few years and he had never even been to her apartment before. She supposed it wouldn't have been too difficult to find out where she lived, assuming his father had her address written down somewhere. The last time they had met, things had been strained between them and judging by the belligerent expression on his face right now, time hadn't helped to sooth old wounds.

He declined the drink coldly.

She took a slow deep breath.

"So what do you want?" she asked coming straight to the point.

"I've come here to tell you to stay the hell away from my father," he said.

His directness and the sheer contempt in his tone startled her. The indirect but obvious accusation left her floundering like a fish on the deck of a boat that hadn't yet been put out of its misery.

"It's all your fault!" he spat, continuing his tirade. "You sat there, stared me in the face and insisted nothing was going on between you two and it was all lies."

"I was telling you the truth," she said indignantly, finally finding her voice in the face of such an unfathomable allegation. "Nothing ever happened between your Father and I. I promise you."

"Don't you see, it doesn't matter whether you actually fucked each other or not!"

She cringed at his crude choice in vocabulary, trying to remind herself that he was technically an adult now, not the child she had fondly watched grow up from afar.

"He's in love with you, Olivia. Everyone knows it. Mum knows it. Why do you think they split up all those years ago? She saw how much you meant to him. She asked him to change partners, change jobs, but he refused. He chose you over her. How was she supposed to live with that? Why didn't you walk away? You saw his marriage disintegrating? You must have known that if you had stayed away they would have got back on track and everything would have been fine. But no, you clung on to a man you had no right to even think about like that and you ruined everything."

Olivia stared at him in horror. With tears infuriatingly pricking at her eyes, she stepped forward, placing her hands firmly on his shoulders, desperate to convey her sincerity.

"Dickie, you listen to me!" Seeing his further enraged expression she started again. "I'm sorry, Richard…It wasn't like that. You've got it all wrong."

"I didn't come here for excuses," he interrupted, wrenching free from her grasp and heading to the door, his face wearing an expression of absolute disgust. "Just stay the fuck away, okay."

"Di… Richard! Wait! Please….".

She headed after him, narrowly avoiding getting hit by the door as he slammed it heavily behind him. She hastily opened it, just in time to see him turn into the stairwell.

"Please, Richard!" she shouted, but he had gone.

She returned to her apartment, bolting the door behind her. Shaking from the intensity of what had just happened, she sank to the ground. What the hell had just happened? The pure hatred in his eyes as he accused her of being the cause for his parents' separation thoroughly horrified her. Was any of it true? Had she really played a role in the break up of Elliot's family, however inadvertent, or was Dickie just gasping at straws, trying to get his head round his parents' break-up? He was a young man at college, just venturing out into the wide world. It was a time of huge change and uncertainty. No wonder he was reeling at the collapse of his family: probably the one thing in his life he needed to be stable right now. Instead his entire world had been turned upside down.

Could what he had said possibly be true? Could Elliot really feel more for her than she had thought? Had he been fighting his feelings for all these years in much the same way she had, quashing them for the sake of his wife and children, but like her, never able to make the final break – until Jenna anyway? Was this all her fault? Should she have walked away the second she had realised her feelings had deepened beyond partnership? Would his marriage have survived if she had done so? Even though part of her somehow doubted that, the point was that they would never know, because she hadn't walked away and when Elliot finally had, she had sought him out, forcing herself back into his life and now his marriage truly was over. Poor Dickie! He was obviously devastated by his parents' split. She had never intended for anyone else to get hurt. She had thought she could ignore her feelings, put them to one side and still maintain a friendship with Elliot, that no one would ever know the truth. But his son had seen through it. Regardless of the fact that she had never actually acted on her feelings, she had still had them and she had continued their partnership nevertheless. Dickie was right. She should have walked away – years ago.

Fat tears rolled down her cheeks as she ruthlessly berated herself for being so selfish as to think she could have kept him in her life at the expense of his children. Did they all feel as Dickie did? Did they all secretly hate her as much? The way he had glared at her, warning her to stay the hell away from his father repeated over and over in her mind. It was devastating. The hopeless tears continued to fall relentlessly for a long while.

…

The rest of the day had been miserable. Every time her thoughts returned to Dickie's visit, she would be filled with a profound sense of sadness. His son hated her. It hurt considerably more than she would ever have imagined it could.

She wasn't in the mood for dinner or wine or even a shower. Instead she crawled into bed, mentally exhausted. The sooner this day ended the better, she decided. Sleep would be a welcome reprieve from the horror of her reality. Of course the second she got into bed her cell phone rang, as she suspected it would, for he had called her religiously every night. Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks as she stared at his name on her phone's display. She wiped them away furiously with the back of her hand. She had to tell him to stop calling. If she didn't he would just persist, maybe even worry something was wrong and come over and that was the last thing she wanted. So she answered the call.

"Hey," he said cheerfully. She didn't reply. She couldn't. She knew he would be able to tell she was crying if she dared open her mouth.

"Liv? Are you there?" he asked.

"Yes," she forced herself to say.

"I've been looking forward to hearing your voice all..."

"El…" she interrupted him nervously,

"Yes? Hey, are you okay? You sound down."

"El, we need to talk."

"Isn't that what we're doing?" he joked.

"Please."

"Liv, what is it?" his tone shifting to concern.

"You can't call me any more."

"What? Why? Has something happened?" He clearly sounded agitated; worried.

"No. Please, El. Please don't make this any more difficult than it needs to be! You just can't call me anymore."

"Olivia. I don't understand. What's going on? Talk to me!"

"I'm sorry. I've got to go."

"No! Don't you dare hang up…"

She pressed the end call button quickly, her heart heavy. Of course her phone started ringing again almost immediately, but she switched it off. She curled up under her sheets, her mind going over and over the encounter with Dickie and the subsequent conversation with Elliot. The surprise and pain in Elliot's voice as he had begged her not to end the call broke her heart, but what choice did she have? His children had to come first. They always would.


	10. Apology

10

She wasn't really surprised when he turned up at her apartment the next morning. To be fair, she supposed she owed him more of an explanation than the incomplete attempt she had made last night. So, apprehensively, she buzzed him in. She knew this was going to be a tough conversation, but thankfully she was feeling much less emotional about the whole issue after sleeping on it and she had woken still convinced that forcing herself to step away really was the right thing to do. The second she opened the door, however, and saw him, her resolve wavered. The clear expression of hurt and confusion on his face hit her hard. Hurting him had never been part of the plan.

She couldn't meet his gaze. She resorted to the familiar, asking him if he would like a drink, but, like his son the day before, he declined, leaving her with no immediate avenue to escape and take a few moments to compose herself for the unpleasant task ahead. Unlike his son however, there was no hatred or malice in his posture, only sadness and in some ways this was so much worse, for it unsettled her to see him so vulnerable looking. She had absolutely no idea what to say to him.

"Liv, what's going on?" he asked, sinking into a chair heavily. No words came into her head. She just stared at a point on the wall behind him, her mind completely blank, shaking her head slightly at her own inability to answer his question.

"Talk to me," he begged her. She could feel his eyes trained on her, no doubt studying her carefully for any clues as to what was going through her head.

She took a deep breath. This was proving even more difficult than she had anticipated. Her yearning to literally run engulfed her, but it was hardly realistic given the fact she was in her own home.

"I've been thinking," she managed to say eventually.

He didn't respond, but instead waited patiently for her to continue. The silence increased her discomfort and she began straightening her skirt nervously, pulling the loose fabric taught over her knees and smoothing it down repeatedly.

"I think getting back in touch after all of this time was a mistake," she said finally.

"How can you say that?" he replied, his voice catching ever so slightly, letting her know just how unwilling he was to accept them.

Startled at the sheer despondency in his tone, she found herself raising her head from her knees up, seeking his face and their eyes locked momentarily. It was all the time she needed to see the dampness. Completely taken aback, she quickly returned her gaze to her knees, her mind turning cartwheels. Was he crying? The notion made her feel even worse than she already did. She hadn't intended to sound quite so blunt, but all the sugar-coating in the world couldn't really change the situation.

"El, think of it from your children's perspective," she said, her discomfort and guilt manifesting itself as irritation. She needed him to understand why she was doing this.

"What difference does it make to them who I'm friends with?" He sounded genuinely bewildered.

"You know what I mean."

"But I don't think I do. Where is this coming from?"

"Do I really have to spell it out for you? Didn't you think your kids would be upset about your separation? Didn't you think they might even blame me?"

She stopped. She had said much more than she had intended and she knew it wouldn't go unnoticed. She could have kicked herself.

"Wait a minute. Blame you? Why on earth would they blame you?"

"Elliot, listen. You've been such a good friend the last few weeks, but your family comes first and it should. I just think if we spend too much time together, it could make people uncomfortable, that's all."

"Well you're wrong and even if anyone was uncomfortable as you suggest, who cares?"

Olivia sighed. He obviously didn't have any idea of just how hurt his son was over this whole thing and if seemed to her that if Dickie was this upset, it was highly likely the others were too.

"You need to talk to your children, Elliot," she said softly, "Especially your son."

"My son? Dickie? … Hang on a minute? Have you spoken to him? Has he said something?"

She got to her feet now, heading into the kitchen to get a glass of water: anything at all to give her some physical distance from him. She berated herself for revealing so much.

"Olivia? Did you talk to Dickie? Did he say something to you?"

She was trapped and she knew it. Lying to Elliot was impossible. He had asked her a direct question and her only choice was to either tell the truth or to refuse to answer, which would be just as revealing anyway. So reluctantly she admitted the truth.

"He came here yesterday."

"Here!?" Elliot was incredulous. "What did he say to you?"

"He was upset. Look, you need to talk to _him_ not me, but please, don't tell him I told you he came here. He was angry and he said things he probably didn't mean, but I know he's a good kid deep down."

"I'm so sorry," Elliot said sadly, realising by the way she had avoided his question and had leapt to his defence that whatever his son had said to her, it had to have been something pretty hurtful. He was glad he had discovered the reason for her sudden desire to end their friendship. He had been desperately trying to imagine what on earth could have happened to make her react like that last night. It was a total shock to hear that Dickie had been to see her though. He was determined to seek him out as soon as possible and get the full story from the horse's mouth so to speak.

"It's okay," she said.

"No, it isn't," he insisted. "I don't know exactly what he said to you, but whatever it is, he shouldn't have. I'm going to go and find him right now and talk to him."

"Don't go over there angry!" she urged him. "Listen to him. Hear him out. He needs you."

"Why are you so… so understanding all the time?" he asked with a frustrated smile, watching as she smiled back self-consciously. She had always put others ahead of herself. In fact she was one of the most selfless people he knew. He was suddenly flooded by a strong desire to show her that sometimes she could come first and that she deserved that. His eyes locked on her face, drinking in her features, recognising the subtle beauty that she exuded, something he had always acknowledged yet at the same time struggled with. He couldn't help wondering right then what it would be like to be able to wrap his arms around her unrestricted, to hold her and feel her naked body against his, to be able to bury himself inside her, to have her trust him enough to relinquish control and allow him to revere her, to love her. He felt the familiar stirrings of sensation below, but he knew this was so much more than a longing for physical satisfaction. His need for her went way beyond friendship. It was _everything_.

"Liv, we need to talk," he said firmly. "Can I come back later today?"

"El, I don't think…"

"Please, Liv. After that, I promise that if you still want me to stay out of your life I will, but I won't walk away until we've talked properly.

"Fine," she acquiesced, uncertain.

"I'll call you later just before I head over here," he told her gently.

"Fine," she agreed.

…

His head was swimming as he headed over to the address Kathy had given him. Although Dickie was technically still living at home, in reality he stayed over at his friends' houses so often that he was barely there. He had tried ringing him on his cell phone but there had been no response, a further clue that whatever he had said to Olivia, it must have been quite bad if he now felt it prudent to avoid his father's calls.

A tall lanky young man answered the door and told him that Dickie was out. It would have been a little more convincing if his son's car hadn't been parked a few spots down the street, Elliot thought wryly.

"Hope you don't mind if I check for myself," he said, pushing his way in, ignoring the protests of the startled young man, who obviously hadn't yet learned that his friend's father was not someone to be trifled with.

Elliot stormed into the apartment, finally locating his son enthralled in some kind of video game.

"Studying hard?" he commented sarcastically, making his son start.

"Sorry man," his friend said from behind Elliot.

"You and I need to talk," Elliot said.

"Seriously Dad? Did you really just barge your way in here? What the hell is wrong with you?" He switched the game off, at least, Elliot noted, irritated that his son felt it was perfectly acceptable to speak to his Father in such scathing tones.

"I might ask you the very same!" Elliot snarled back, trying his hardest to rein in his frustration towards his son. Olivia had been right. There was obviously something bothering the young man to make him this angry and antagonistic towards him.

"She told you, didn't she?"

"Can you give us some privacy?" Elliot asked Dickie's friend who was still standing in the doorway.

Elliot watched him seek out agreement from Dickie and was relieved to see his son nod.

Once they were alone, Elliot sat down.

"Why are you here, Dad?" Dickie asked exasperated.

"In answer to your previous question, no, she didn't tell me. I worked it out. And for your information she actually stuck up for you. She said you were upset and I gather you said some things to her, but she wouldn't tell me the details."

Elliot watched the flicker of uncertainty on his son's otherwise stony face and realised he might be starting to get through to him.

"What did you say to her?" he asked.

Dickie shook his head, the scowl reappearing.

"Tell me what you said to her!" Elliot repeated more sternly.

"Fine," Dickie yelled back. "I told her to stay the hell away from you – from all of us. Happy?"

"What?" Elliot asked devastated at the pure venom in his tone. "Why?"

"Because it's all her fault, isn't it? You and mum would have been fine if she had just stayed away!"

"Di… Richard, listen to me!" Elliot urged. "She had absolutely nothing to do with it! Do you hear me? Your mother and I have had problems for years, before Olivia became my partner even. You know we got married so young and both of us wanted to do everything we could to make it work for you and the girls and Eli. It sounds like a cliché, but it's true that ultimately people sometimes just change too much. We tried really hard to fight the inevitable, but sometimes there just comes a point where you have to accept defeat. I admit, Olivia is and always has been someone very important to me and I would be lying if I told you I didn't care about her a great deal, but nothing _ever_ happened between us while I was with your mother. In fact if you only knew the number of times Olivia has intervened, telling me to go home and talk to your mum and sort things out when we've been arguing, then you would see just how unfair your accusation is."

"You're in love with her though, aren't you?"

"What?" Elliot was completely thrown. Speechless, he stared at his son in confusion.

"My God! You haven't even admitted it to yourself, have you?"

"I…"

"You're pathetic!"

The disdain in his son's tone sent a fresh wave of anger through him. There was no way he could tolerate this much obvious disrespect.

"Remember who you are talking to young man!" he warned him sternly, glad to note the slight flush of red to his son's cheeks which told him that he was aware he had just taken it too far.

"Sorry," Dickie muttered.

"Look, I get this is difficult for you, I do. If you want to be angry with anyone, than direct it at me! This is my fault. I messed things up with your mother. It was nothing to do with Olivia. What you did yesterday just isn't right. She's a good, decent person, Dickie. She cares about you and what you and the girls and Eli think and feel. Do you know she called me last night and told me we shouldn't contact each other any more?"

"She did?" Dickie said somewhat surprised. He had worked himself up into such a rage the day before when he had gone round there and said those terrible things, but the truth was he had felt a little bad about it afterwards. He had seen the flash of hurt in her eyes at his accusations and he had suddenly recalled an occasion a few years back, when his father had been injured and taken to hospital and Olivia had gone to their school to pick them up and take them to the hospital. She had been so sympathetic, explaining everything to them without trying to skirt around the truth or treat them like children - unlike everyone else who had been intent on protecting them from anything unpleasant to the point of infuriation. She had taken them both into her arms and sympathized with them, letting them know that she cared and that she understood their fears. He had developed a deep respect for her that day, which underneath all his anger, he knew was still there.

"I told you, she is a good person. The last thing she would ever want to do is to hurt you or any of the others. She will always put you guys first. It's just who she is."

"I said some really harsh things to her…" Dickie said miserably.

"Do you really blame her?" Elliot asked.

Dickie shook his head slowly. "I guess not. I just, it's just hard, Dad. You and Mum… it's just difficult to get my head around the fact that you're not together any more. I mean, I'm twenty years old, not a kid. I feel like an idiot being upset about something like his, but…"

"Don't ever feel like that!" Elliot interrupted him. "It's a huge deal, whatever age you are. I get that. It's precisely why your mother and I both tried so hard not to let it happen. I'm really sorry, Dickie. I didn't want this for you."

"It's okay," Dickie said, letting his father's slip with his name go this time. He was too busy fighting to control the emotion that was now threatening to overwhelm him as he finally revealed to his father the things he had kept bottled up until now.

"Come here," Elliot said the gruffness of his voice betraying his own emotion.

Dickie stepped forward and they embraced, Elliot slapping him gently on the back roughly in that typical manly fashion that somehow seemed to make displays of affection less embarrassing somehow.

"I love you," he told his son.

"Me too, Dad" Dickie echoed.

Elliot stepped back and smiled. "I'm glad we talked. Next time you have something on your mind though, promise me you'll tell me!"

Dickie nodded self-consciously.

"I should apologise to her," he said.

"Yes, you should," Elliot agreed.

…

Elliot had called her and informed her that he and Dickie were both on their way over. She was mortified at the thought of seeing Dickie again, especially so soon. She wondered what Elliot might have said to him and whether this visit was voluntary or enforced. She imagined it would be extremely awkward if Dickie was going to be forced by his father to apologise to her despite not feeling any remorse. She wished Elliot had just left it alone.

While she waited, she busied herself pottering around, tidying things up here and there and putting some laundry on. She had just finished wiping down the bathroom sink, when the doorbell rang. Her stomach was in knots as she opened the door.

She immediately noticed Dickie's subdued pose. Again she wondered what Elliot had said to him. She hoped they had talked properly about everything and it hadn't just been a case of Elliot laying down the law. Dickie's concerns were valid, she thought and he deserved to have them taken seriously by his Father.

They all seated themselves at the dining room table and Olivia handed out some orange juice. The pair thanked her and finally Dickie looked up.

"I need to apologise to you, Olivia," he said slowly.

"Don't worry about it," she said immediately. "You were upset."

"No, I was completely out of order. I never should have said those things to you."

"Honestly, it's fine. I understand."

"Please, Olivia. Accept my apology. I spoke to Dad and he helped me to see things a bit more clearly. I know it's not your fault. It never was. I was just looking for something – someone – to blame. I know it's not your fault. I truly am sorry."

"Thank you," Olivia said quietly. To all appearances he seemed genuinely sorry. The change from yesterday was striking.

"Shall I drop you back?" Elliot asked Dickie a short while later. He had no desire to leave, but since they had come over in Elliot's car, leaving Dickie's behind at his friends' place, it would hardly be fair to expect Dickie to make his own way back from here. Even though the apology had been given and accepted, the atmosphere was still strained. Neither Olivia nor Dickie really knew quite what to say to each other. Besides, he really wanted to talk to Olivia alone. They had so much to discuss.

"Nah, I can make my own way back," Dickie said. "I can see you guys need to talk and I've caused enough problems. You can give me some money for the bus though," he grinned.

"Are you sure? It's really no trouble!"

"Yeah, thanks Dad. And thanks for the drink, Olivia," he told her.

"I'll talk to you later," Elliot said handing over some money, before his son headed over to the door to let himself out.

Once he had gone, Elliot turned to face Olivia. She looked drained. He wondered how much sleep she had got last night and suspected it hadn't been much.

"So…" he said heavily.

"You should have left it," she said. "Making him to apologise doesn't change anything really."

"Of course it does. He didn't really mean those things. He was angry and hurt. He still is, but he's trying to see it more objectively. It wasn't easy for him to come here, but he did it."

"I know, I appreciate it," she replied softly.

"So what about us?" he asked sombrely. "Are we going to be okay?"

He watched her face nervously, the knot in his stomach growing as he waited for her response.


	11. Talking

11

She desperately wanted to give in and say that yes everything would be fine: except she couldn't, because it wasn't. What choice was this? Stay friends and long everyday for something that could never be, or step back and never see him again? Only she had tried that. All that time had passed, she had thrown herself into her work and new relationships and yet the slightest upset in her life and he was still the first person she had wanted to run to. It was like an invisible force was pulling her to him that she was powerless to fight. Sometimes when she tried to be objective, she wasn't even sure why she was so enamoured with him. There were times when he completed infuriated her, other times when his intense anger even scared her. Yet despite all his flaws, she still found herself hopelessly drawn to him.

She had no idea how to respond to his question. Either option was agonizingly hard. She very briefly considered offering him a third option, but as she glanced up and saw his face, the fear gripped her. What if he said no? What if his reaction was one of shock, disbelief, even ridicule? She didn't think she could deal with any kind of adverse reaction, especially right now. She was already feeling emotional thanks to events during the last few weeks. No, telling him the truth about how she was feeling was too much of a risk. Besides, he'd just separated from his wife. He was probably all over the place emotionally right now, not to mention the fact that even though his son might have reconsidered and apologised, he must still have doubts about their friendship. She had no desire to deepen them.

She looked up and as her gaze landed on his face, she felt a nervous ripple course through her stomach. The man wasn't even touching her and she was reacting like this. She hardly dared imagine what it would be like if he finally kissed her properly, when he wasn't drunk. She remembered the feel of his lips against hers, but the first time it had been mitigated by the adrenaline rush brought about by the genuine fear for their lives and the second, more recent occasion, by the stench of booze and knowing the reason he had come to see her. Even so she had been enthralled by him. She imagined his hand on the back of her head, his slow move in, tantalizing her with anticipation before he gently pressed his mouth to hers, their lips locking, his tongue exploring the as yet uncrossed boundaries between them, both of their movements growing more frantic and more desperate as they both melted into the kiss. She could feel the dampness accumulating in her underwear and embarrassed she looked away. She knew it was unlikely he could tell how turned on she was right now, but it still mortified her that he might somehow be able to guess. He always had been able to read her like a book.

"Liv?" he asked. "What's going through your head?"

She could feel her cheeks redden and the corners of her mouth turn up in a self-conscious smile. This was a question she certainly didn't intend to answer.

"I'm sorry."

It took her a few seconds to recognise that he was apologising for something. She was too intent on trying to bring herself back to some kind of equilibrium. She returned her gaze to his face, this time her expression quizzical.

"I'm sorry about Dickie – about everything. Liv, please talk to me. I don't want to lose you again."

Inwardly she groaned. What choice did she have faced with a plea like that? How could she possibly walk away when he was begging her not to like this? Once again, she was back to feeling helpless: she was like a fly snared in a spider's web. There was no escape. She could only accept her fate and hope that perhaps there would be some kind of miracle that would allow her to survive this unscathed.

"I'm sorry," she said faintly. She wasn't really sure exactly what she was apologising for the most, but it seemed a good way to fill the silence. She was sorry about a lot of things: sorry she felt the way she did; sorry she wasn't strong enough to walk away; sorry she had confused and hurt him; sorry about his son's reaction.

"Can I hug you?"

She looked at him in surprise. It was such an innocent, tentative request. He looked nervous; as though he were terrified she would say no. She nodded slowly, feeling slightly giddy. Her response was instinctive. She had found her head moving of its own accord, while her good sense screamed at her to stop this in its tracks, right now. He closed the short distance and she felt his arms snake their way around her. She could tell he was apprehensive. His movements were awkward and cautious. She found her own arms slipping around his back and as she did so, she could feel him relax slightly. She rested her head against his shoulder, turning so that he could not see her face. He raised one hand and placed it to the back of her head, gently running his fingers through her hair in a confusing gesture of intimacy that left her on tenterhooks wondering exactly what his next move would be.

She was scared to raise her head, for the possibility of this metamorphosing into a kiss seemed high. Even though she wanted it more than anything, that warning voice in her head was still loud enough for her to be aware that it would be a mistake. The timing was so wrong.

"Liv," he whispered, nuzzling slightly into her neck, gently trying to get her to turn her face towards his.

"El," she moaned pleadingly. He smelt so good. She was comfortable in this position: too comfortable.

He gave up seeking access to her mouth and lips and instead seemed to lean more heavily into the embrace, where they remained for a short while longer, before finally, they both simultaneously pulled away.

She knew beyond any doubt that he was physically attracted to her and that just then he had wanted to act on it. In fact she had always known that deep down. But she also knew it wasn't enough for her. Falling into bed together would have been so easy, but it would break her heart if he walked away afterwards. She didn't doubt he genuinely liked and cared for her. She did however doubt his readiness for a relationship with her, especially right now.

"Shall we go and sit down?" he suggested, indicating towards the sofa. Once again her stomach knotted in anticipation as images of them snuggling up together there danced through her head. She nodded.

She made for the armchair, thinking it would be significantly safer to put some physical distance between them, but he grabbed her wrist and gently pulled her down beside him on the sofa.

"El, what are you doing?" she asked weakly.

"Sitting," he said, with one of his irritating smirks.

"Funny," she muttered sarcastically.

"Hey, what's wrong? We're talking aren't we?"

"Do we really need to be sitting this close for that?" she asked.

"I guess not," he said dejectedly, sliding away slightly, giving her more space and thereby the opportunity to stand and take the seat she had originally planned on.

She hesitated. He looked genuinely hurt and that hadn't been her intention at all. Yet, sitting this close to him was an excruciating form of torment she wasn't sure she could tolerate for much longer.

"You can go over to the armchair if you want," he said grumpily.

She suddenly felt irritated. He sounded like a pouting little boy.

"I'm fine here," she said firmly.

He nodded and the slight air of satisfaction in his grin didn't escape her notice. She wondered at how she could be so riveted by a guy who infuriated her so thoroughly.

"Don't be angry!" he said in a mock doleful tone.

"I'm not," she sighed.

"Good."

"So, are you planning on hanging around here all day?" she asked.

"Not all day, but I can stay for a while. I thought we should talk. I mean, I don't want you calling me up tonight to tell me our friendship is off again," he teased.

"Ha ha," she said throwing him a warning look.

"You know I have a four day weekend at the end of the month."

"Oh yeah?" She replied indifferently, hoping she was adequately concealing the nervousness she felt at the implication behind his announcement.

"I thought we could go away," he said, confirming her suspicion.

"You did?"

"Don't worry. It's nothing untoward: just two friends getting out of the city to forget things for a while. It'll be fun. You could do with a break and I certainly could. We could go up north and get some fresh air, spend some time outdoors."

"You know, I'm much more at home here in Manhattan."

"Oh come on! Pretty please!"

"Fine, I'll think about it."

"Oh no you don't! I need an answer now and the only one I will accept is yes." He was grinning from ear to ear and she couldn't help but want to chuckle.

"Fine," she relented.

"Really? You'll come?"

"I said yes, didn't I?" she said exasperated.

"We're going to have a blast!"

"Sure," she said doubtfully, although secretly she was thrilled. A weekend away just the two of them? Even though it did partly scare her to death, there was no way she was ever going to be able to say no to that. Besides, they were adults. They could do this. They could put their feelings of attraction aside in order to maintain a friendship. As he had said, it was just two friends going away to enjoy a well-deserved break. There was nothing wrong with that….

Well as long as Dickie didn't find out anyway, she thought wryly.


	12. Disappointment

12

A whole week had passed and he still hadn't mentioned the weekend away again, despite calling her every day as had become routine. She was starting to get antsy. Had he changed his mind? Had he decided it was a silly idea? Did he think that by not mentioning it, she would forget all about it? She was dying to bring the subject up, but something prevented her from doing so. The thought of him knowing just how prominent he was in her thoughts made her feel self-conscious and she had to keep reminding herself that he had only just separated from his wife. This weekend away; it was just two friends going away. It didn't mean anything - probably.

It was one thing to tell herself that, but it was another to truly believe it. She couldn't help suspecting that there was a good chance this weekend would bring significant changes one way or another. She had to admit, however, that there was still a part of her that was worried that even if something happened between them, he would ultimately end up going back to Kathy. She had this awful train of thought where they would finally get together, but that afterwards he would realise he had been so much better off with his wife and run back to her. She knew it was probably more a reflection of her own self-doubts than of anything else, but the scenario still relentlessly played out at the back of her mind. She hadn't exactly had all that much luck with love so far in her life, she thought wistfully.

She had never really been all that shy between the sheets, but as she had grown older she had become more confident about showing what she wanted and was less inhibited in many ways. That said, she had still never truly let herself go, but had always remained guarded to a certain point. With Brian, it had been nice, but he had been quite predictable and they had quickly established a routine to their love-making, that had got the job done effectively so to speak, but it still left her feeling like there was something missing. Funnily enough, the person she remembered with the most fondness was someone she had barely dated: in fact they had only seen each other a few times before they had gone their separate ways, but the couple of occasions they had consummated their relationship, it had been liberating, certainly the closest she had ever come to feeling completely free to be herself in the bedroom.

The thought of getting that close, hopefully even closer, to Elliot, however much it intrigued her on one primal level, also terrified her. It was mind-blowing to imagine what it would be like to become intimate after all those years as partners, interacting more like brother and sister in many ways. She wondered what expectations he might have of her and worried if she would live up to them. Their mutual attraction had been bubbling under the surface for so long, she wondered if he had built up an ideal of what it would be like to be with her in his head and she knew that reality was more often than not at odds with what the mind could conjure up. She couldn't help fearing that he might be disappointed and regret taking things that far. Once it was done, there would be no going back after all.

The thought was so terrifying, that part of her almost hoped that he had reconsidered and decided a weekend away wouldn't be appropriate. The sensible part of her told herself to stop playing things so safe and to take a risk for once in her life. Why shouldn't she have the chance at happiness? Surely she deserved that? What if she was getting this all wrong though and he had no interested in pursuing anything serious with her. What if he really did intend for them to just go away as friends? The whole subject was making her head spin.

He called as usual later on that day. Only this time he surprised her, telling her he was downstairs! She buzzed him up, rushing into her bedroom to retrieve her clothes where she had flung them onto a chair. Lately she had begun changing into her pyjamas before talking with him on the phone, for more often that not their conversation would last for hours and she'd finish the call curled up on her bed. Once he left she would curl up under the sheets, with her hand between her legs, imagining it was his not her own, then she would allow herself the release she craved, before quickly falling asleep, a warm-feeling in her stomach as his voice and imagined touch lulled her into a place of deep relaxation.

Him actually showing up had been the last thing she had expected. She just about managed to pull her clothes on in time when she heard him pushing the door open. She had put it on the latch when she had confirmed it was him downstairs. Flustered and slightly out of breath, she hurried out of the bedroom, smoothing down her top as she went.

"You okay?" he asked.

She nodded and hurriedly slipped past him into the kitchen.

"Tea?" she asked

"Sure," he replied, an amused smile on his face that made her feel even more embarrassed. She concentrated on filling the kettle and preparing the teapot and cups, trying to return to a state of calm.

"I hope you don't mind me just turning up like this," he said.

"Of course not," she replied. She wasn't sure what he thought she had been doing, but to her horror it suddenly occurred to her that perhaps his mind was going to a completely different place.

"You just caught me while I happened to be getting changed into my pyjamas!" she explained. "I hurriedly put my clothes back on when you told me you were here, which is why I was a little flustered. OK?"

"You didn't need to bother getting dressed on my account!" he replied, flashing her one of his infuriatingly arrogant grins.

"Right, because I always sit around in my pyjamas when I have guests," she retorted sarcastically.

"I don't care what you're wearing," he said, catching her gaze so intently that she immediately felt herself blush. She looked away, turning her attention to the kettle. She hated the way he had the innate ability to make her feel so completely out of control like this.

"Well I do!" she said quickly, trying to ignore the rush of sensation she felt as a result of his words and stare. She could sense his eyes boring into her even though she couldn't actually see for sure.

"I just thought, since we'd be talking on the phone all night anyway, I may as well come over."

"It's fine. I'm glad you came." She raised her head and forced a smile.

He watched her as the kettle boiled and she finished making the tea and he thanked her when she handed him his cup. They settled on the sofa, placing the cups on the coffee table before sinking back against the cushions.

"So I was thinking we should get an early start next weekend," he said.

"So we're still on then?"

"Of course."

"You didn't mention it, so I wondered if you had changed your mind."

"No way!"

She smiled, pleased.

"I booked us a little log cabin."

"Sounds nice," she said, once again feeling her stomach muscles clench in nervous anticipation.

"It even has showers!" he added.

"I should hope so!" she said in a tone that drew a chuckle from him.

"One day I'm taking you out camping in the wilderness!" he said with a teasing grin. "It'll be just you, me and a tent. No showers, no hairdryers, no toilets even."

"Yeah, dream on!"

"Oh come on, it's not that bad."

"Can we just change the subject?" she said, rolling her eyes.

"So an early start next Friday is ok?" he said with a slightly exaggerated air of exasperation.

"How early are we talking?"

"I was thinking I'd come and pick you up at around five?"

"Five in the morning?! I hope you're joking!"

"It takes three or four hours to drive up there. That way we get four whole days."

"Would an hour or two later really make that much difference?"

"I guess not."

He looked so disappointed she almost caved in, but instead decided on attempting a compromise.

"Let's make it six thirty. That way we still get there well before lunch and you don't get to spend the weekend with me half dead from lack of sleep!"

"Alright," he agreed.

"So do I need to bring anything special?" she asked curiously.

"No, just your clothes and the usual stuff; toothbrush etc. Oh but you'll need some good footwear for walking."

"I figured that much."

"I can't believe you've never been up there before."

"I'm surprised you have, given the hours you used to work."

"True, he chuckled.

"So do you miss it?"

"Yeah, sometimes, although I think I missed you more than I did the actual job. To be honest I had really had enough long before the whole thing with Jenna. It gets you down day in day out. I almost suspected you might move on yourself actually."

"You thought I wouldn't want to cope without you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, slightly irritated at the idea that he thought she wouldn't be able to carry on without him or something. She supposed he would love to think that.

"No, not at all! I knew you would be fine without me. That's not what I meant at all. I meant purely the nature of the job being what it is, that's all."

"Oh right" she said.

"Why do you always assume I'm thinking badly of you, Olivia?"

The question surprised her, as did the use of her full name, a sure sign of his frustration. She had to admit she hadn't really thought about it like that.

"Because I don't you know," he added.

"I know," she faltered.

"But do you really?" he asked. He suddenly stood, picking up his cup and taking it over to the kitchen sink. She stared after him. He seemed upset. She heard him sigh.

"El…?" she said questioningly.

"I'm sorry," he said. "It's no wonder you're unsure where you stand, after I walked away like I did."

"It's okay," she said. "We've been through all this already. I understand why you left."

"It's not okay," he said sadly. "But I promise you I will make it up to you and one day you'll believe that I'm here to stay this time."

"You don't have to make any promises."

"Yes I do."

They lapsed into silence. He returned to the sofa and put his head in his hands.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, deciding that a change in subject might be good.

"I ate before I came," he replied. "Are you?"

"No, not really, I ate earlier too."

Once again there was silence.

"Do you mind if I put the TV on?" she asked after a minute or two.

"No, not at all," he said. He sounded almost relieved.

She flicked on the switch. It was strange how much easier it was to talk to him on the phone than face to face. Having him in such close proximity, put her on edge and she found herself analysing everything she said and did, worrying how he might interpret it. She knew it was nerves: a kind of sexual tension that had built up to such an extent that she could barely think straight when he was in the same room. Every time he glanced at her, she could feel her heart rate start to quicken; every time he complimented her, she found herself unable to accept it, for it was easier to dismiss than to really think about what he might mean behind it.

They watched a couple of comedy shows, laughing at the same places, commenting at the same inane actions of the protagonists. It was much less nerve-racking to have something else to focus on other than each other. A couple of hours passed before they knew it and eventually Elliot made his excuses and left. There was a point where he kind of leaned towards her and for half a second she held her breath as she genuinely thought he might be leaning in for a kiss, but he pulled back at the last moment and she exhaled, feeling a curious mix of both relief and disappointment.

"Night Liv," he said softly.

"Night El," she replied. She locked and bolted the door behind him.

…

The following Friday morning, he rang her phone at bang on six thirty to let her know he was downstairs and waiting. She grabbed her bag, stifling the yawn and made her way downstairs.

"Morning!" she heard from the backseat as she made herself comfortable. She spun around in surprise and saw Dickie.

"Morning!" she said awkwardly, her mind racing. Dickie was coming? She had assumed it would just be the two of them, but now she racked her brains trying to remember if he had actually mentioned at some point that his son would be present. Maybe she had just jumped to conclusions when she had assumed it would just be the two of them. Elliot had clearly said that they were going away as 'friends', but she was certain he hadn't mentioned bringing his son. Was this some kind of attempt to prove to him that there really was nothing going on between them? She immediately regretted agreeing to this. How was she supposed to survive a weekend pretending that she wasn't the slightest bit attracted to Elliot with his son there? She could feel the panic building. How was she going to get out of this? What had she been thinking?

"Shall we get going?" Elliot asked cheerfully.

Unable to think of any good excuse to get out of this now she was actually in the car, her bags packed and ready to go, reluctantly she nodded, turning her head away to stare out of the passenger window, desperately trying to hold back the tears that were annoyingly threatening to fall. Disappointed didn't even begin to describe how she felt right now. This was quite possibly going to be the worst weekend of her life.


	13. New Territory

13

"Dickie asked me to drop him off at a friend's in Yonkers," Elliot told her as soon as she buckled in her seatbelt. "His car is in for a service and he won't get it back until later on today. I warned him we were leaving early, but he said he didn't mind."

"Oh I see," she said as casually as she could, immediately feeling a little embarrassed that she had so readily jumped to conclusions. With the relief, the nerves returned with a vengeance. This was really happening. They were going away together alone for four whole days. Then to her horror, it occurred to her that Dickie obviously knew about their trip. How else would it explain the early start and the overnight bags? She dreaded to think what he thought about it all. Feeling terribly awkward, she remained silent, sinking down into the seat, hoping to attract as little attention as possible.

"You ok?" Elliot asked after a short while. "You're very quiet."

"I warned you about leaving at this ridiculous hour! She grumbled. It was only a half truth, for she did genuinely feel tired. She hadn't slept well the night before, the anticipation having kept her awake for much of the night.

Elliot chuckled and returned to making light conversation with his son. She wondered who on earth he was going to see at this hour, but she wasn't about to ask. It really wasn't all that important anyway, she decided.

It took a long twenty five minutes to reach Dickie's friend's house. She remained in the car while Elliot got out, giving his son a quick hug goodbye. She was glad they seemed to be on good terms despite the fact that she was there. She doubted Dickie could realistically be in any way OK with her and his father going away together like this after his reaction the other day, but maybe he had decided it best to keep his feelings to himself from now on? She had assumed Elliot wouldn't have mentioned it at all, given recent events. She felt like she had been caught red-handed doing something she shouldn't, despite the fact that in reality she hadn't done anything wrong at all.

Elliot got back in the car.

"So, shall we get going?" he said cheerfully.

"Sure," she said tetchily. She wished she had mustered up a little more enthusiasm in her tone, for the truth was she had been looking forward to this weekend away ever since he had first mentioned it. However, the discomfort she felt at Dickie being there when she first got in the car lingered and she couldn't shake it.

They barely got five minutes down the road when he pulled over at a coffee shop.

"Let's get you a coffee!" he said. "I don't want to spend the whole day with you like this."

"Maybe you should just take me back and forget the whole thing," she snapped, profoundly irritated at his teasing and annoyed that he couldn't have realised that his son being there in the car, after everything that had happened, might have been awkward for her.

He leaned over and unbuckled both of their belts and turned to face her.

"Liv, look at me," he told her. Reluctantly she turned her head in his direction.

"I'm sorry. He asked for the ride and I could hardly say no. I should have warned you."

"It's fine. He's your son," she said quickly.

"I know, but… hang on a minute…" he said his expression suddenly changing as he finally realised what had been going through her head. "You thought I had invited him away with us?"

The lack of an answer confirmed his suspicions.

"I didn't think how it must have looked!" he exclaimed dismayed.

"El, just drop it, okay?" she warned him, unlatching the door. "Come on. If we're going, I'm going to need a coffee."

He obediently followed her inside.

…

With the atmosphere between them still strained, they drove northwards. Olivia clutched her coffee, sipping slowly, enjoying the aroma and taste. She could already feel it starting to kick in. She sighed quietly wishing things had got off to a better start. What if all they did this weekend was argue? It wasn't how she wanted the weekend to go at all.

"I checked the weather forecast," he said breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"Yeah?" she said, making a deliberate effort to sound light and interested.

"Today's supposed to be fine. Looks like rain tomorrow, but the weather should be better again on Sunday and Monday."

"That's good," she said. She paused. She strongly felt that they needed to clear the air, even though nothing specific had even been said. Ironically it was usually the case that the problem with them was more what wasn't said, she thought.

"I don't want to argue."

"Me neither," he replied immediately. Then he reached over and before she could get her head round what was happening she felt his hand land just above her knee. She tensed. She didn't know what to do. Should she acknowledge the gesture? Should she ignore it? Did it really mean anything, or was it just because he was behind the wheel and it was the only way he felt he could reassure her that things were going to be ok between them.

A bend in the road caused him to remove his hand and replace it back on the steering wheel. She wasn't sure which was greater; the relief or the disappointment. She leaned her head back against the head rest and closed her eyes.

"If you're tired, you should doze," he told her.

"Maybe I will," she replied.

She tried, but she knew she was way too wired. The coffee combined with her nervous anticipation was hardly conducive to sleep.

"Can we stop for a restroom break?" she asked after a while.

"Sure," he replied.

…

She returned from the restroom and slipped back into her seat, fastening the seat belt, but he didn't immediately start the engine.

"Do you need to go?" she asked.

"Nah," he replied.

"Then what are we waiting for?"

"Liv, I… I wanted to tell you something."

"You did?" she asked uneasily. She could feel the panic closing in. Was this where he told her how he felt? It was suddenly the last thing she wanted to hear. The reality was as much as she longed for it, it still scared the hell out of her.

"It's about my marriage." It wasn't quite what she had been expecting, but it still didn't reassure her that the conversation wouldn't turn to them.

"Elliot, please… it's really none of my business," she said warily.

"But it is. You need to know."

She stared at her knees, highly uncomfortable at the turn the conversation was taking.

"I know we only officially split less than a month ago, but it was over well before then."

She shifted. The subject of his marriage always made her antsy.

"I mean I accepted it was over a long time ago," he continued. "We both did."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I want you to know that I am at peace with it. I mean, it's been inevitable for so long and right now, even though many people might think it's too soon to, you know, move on, to me, it wouldn't be."

"Right," she said slowly.

"I mean, assuming there was someone to move on with."

"I see."

She hated the way she probably sounded so unaffected by what he was telling her, for it couldn't be further from the truth, but she couldn't help but tread cautiously. He still hadn't explicitly come out and told her that _she_ was 'the someone' he was interested in moving on with anyway and unless he did, she wasn't about to make that leap.

"Do you get what I'm saying?" he asked her.

"I… I think so," she replied uncertainly.

"Good. Then maybe we should carry on then."

"Sure."

…

The remainder of the drive was thankfully much less intense. After Elliot switched some music on, they both began to relax and a short while after they lapsed back into the easy conversation that was more in tune with the kind of chit-chat typical of the late night phone calls they had both enjoyed over the last few weeks. The further away they got from the city, the more at ease Olivia started to feel. Things were so much easier when she didn't think, she decided.

…

Elliot had found them a cabin beside Piseco Lake.

"Oh my goodness," she breathed as he pulled into the parking lot of the main inn. "We're staying here?"

"Yup," he affirmed.

"It's absolutely beautiful," she said, staring out at the blue lake and the backdrop of hilly scenery.

"I'm glad you like it," he said, pleased.

They were shown to their cabin, which was a five minute drive down a dirt track. It was basic, but clean and homely looking.

"So will this do?" he asked smiling, for the expression on her face had already told him she more than approved.

"This can't have been cheap," she whispered.

"Don't worry about that."

"No, El. I'm going to pay my half.

"Let's talk about it later," he said dismissively. "Right now, let's make the most of this weather. Come on!"

They placed their bags in the hallway and after a quick walk around the cabin to see what it was like inside, they immediately headed out on foot. There was a walking trail that basically circled the lake and the views en route were amazing.

An hour and a half into the walk, they stopped to rest. They wandered down to the lakeside, where they stumbled across a rocky beach.

"Over here!" Elliot said, taking her hand and leading her over the rocks to where they jutted out into the lake slightly. The blue water beneath them was a wonderful shade and the shallow water that pooled right in front of them was so clear they could see the bottom easily.

"Look! Fish!" she pointed out, watching as they swam beneath the water, further idealizing the beauty of the spot somehow.

They sat down and she expected him to release her hand, but he didn't. Instead, he drew it onto his lap and placed his other hand on top.

"El?" she said hesitatingly. This seemed unquestioningly more than just a simple gesture of friendship.

"Is this making you uncomfortable?" he asked, with a touch of vulnerability in his voice that took her aback.

She shook her head, feeling only slightly guilty at the blatant lie. His fingers were now stroking the back of her hand and the sensation was making her feel giddy. Nervous ripples ran right through her. She was finding it impossible to concentrate on anything other than his proximity.

Slowly he intertwined his fingers between hers and then with his free hand he began running his fingers lightly up her forearm, making her hairs stand on end. The sensation was tantalizing and despite her nerves, she found herself silently willing his hand to wander further, to pull her closer to him… to press his lips against hers. But he didn't.

Instead he continued running his fingers gently up and down her arm as they stared out at the lake and she pretended to be fascinated with the view. Needing to be even closer, she found herself impulsively reaching for his hand that rested on her arm, gripping it tightly, so that she now had the fingers of both of her hands laced between both of his. She turned away from him, still nervous about looking him in the eye and she pulled his hands in front so that his arms wrapped around her, clasped around her stomach, his chest pressed up against her back. She could feel his breath on her neck and it tickled her, immediately making her hairs stand on end.

She felt him leaning in, his mouth and nose now pressed up against her neck and the only thing on her mind was, when was he going to finally kiss her?

The sound of voices coming closer made both of them start.

There was no reason for either of them to pull away, but they did. Maybe it was just too unfamiliar, Olivia thought. Neither of them was ready for a public display of an attraction they were only just beginning to acknowledge themselves.

"Maybe we should head back?" Elliot said quietly, his tone loaded.

An immediate rush of sensation hit her hard and she nodded breathlessly.

A man and a woman came into view.

"Wow, look at this!" they heard the woman exclaim as they drew closer and saw the view from the little beach.

"Oh we're sorry!" she added when she finally noticed Elliot and Olivia.

"It's ok," Elliot said quickly. "Actually, we were just leaving."

He took Olivia's hand back in his and they returned to the footpath.

They turned back towards the cabin, his hand still grasping hers tightly, as if he was afraid letting it go would somehow end whatever it was that was happening between them.

Silently, she walked beside him, all too aware of the now unspoken understanding between them. Their relationship had just entered new territory.


	14. Facing demons

14

She wasn't sure how long the silence lasted, but with his hand firmly grasping hers as they walked along, it didn't feel like a bad thing. It was kind of nice to have the time to get used to it all. It was surreal that they were on the way back to the cabin to probably take their relationship somewhere she had never seriously expected it would ever go. Of course the usual doubts bombarded her as they walked, but she remembered the conversation in the car park outside the public restroom. He had explicitly said he was not hung up over the ending of his marriage and that he was ready to move on. At the time she hadn't quite dared to believe he could have meant with her, but things looked very different with his hand tightly clasping hers.

She guessed she knew deep down that this moment had perhaps been inevitable when he had first invited her away. A four day weekend, alone together, in the mountains? What else could it possibly have meant? She smiled to herself as she thought of how she had tried to kid herself that he had just invited her out of friendship and wondered why she was so reluctant to just trust that this was real, that he actually wanted to be with her. She knew him well enough to know that he wasn't the type of man to enter into a relationship lightly. If they took things further, she believed it would mean he truly wanted them to be together.

She could feel dampness building between their palms and it made her feel self-conscious, yet letting him go now seemed as impossible as returning to the beginning of a roller coaster ride once it had set off and started climbing that first steep incline. The train had left and she was firmly buckled in. There was no way but forward.

"I can barely remember walking this far!" he said and she smiled. She liked the fact he was impatient to return to the cabin. The anticipation of what was ahead was like nothing she had ever known.

"It can't be that much further," she said, hoping it really wasn't, although part of her was enjoying this moment. There was something nice about the certainty that things were going to happen.

"I remember that tree! It's not far now!"

"You do?" she asked with a bemused smile. It just looked like any other tree to her.

"You know we probably ought to swing by the store when we get back."

"Yeah I guess," she said reluctantly, remembering the lady who had shown them to their cabin had told them it would close around four that afternoon.

…

Their shopping completed they finally pushed open the door to the cabin and stepped inside, heading straight to the kitchen to put the groceries away. They had decided to make a simple salad with ham, cheese and boiled potatoes for dinner, thinking it would be quick and easy. Neither of them wanted to spend the evening slaving away in the kitchen. There hadn't been much choice, but they had managed to find a bottle of wine that looked alright. Once she had finished arranging the other groceries, Olivia placed it carefully in the fridge and closed the door.

"Have you finally finished?" he asked in a slightly exaggerated impatient tone.

"Yes," she replied with a smile.

"Good, then come here!"

She stared at him surprised. Despite the inevitability of the new direction their relationship was taking, she still felt like they were both walking on eggshells, unsure about the exact next step. The nerves once again rippled through her stomach as she stepped towards his open arms. As soon as she was close enough, he immediately wrapped them around her, pulling her tight against him. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest and wondered if he could sense it. As she rested her head against him, she realized that his heart was going pretty fast too and it was somewhat of a relief to know she wasn't the only one being affected so thoroughly.

"Let's sit down," she suggested and he released her enough so that they could make their way over to the sofa without stumbling. They sat down and he began staring at her intently, so much so that she started to feel extremely self-conscious.

"What?" she asked shyly.

"I was just thinking how I've never told you before just how beautiful you are."

"El…" she said awkwardly, her cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment at the sheer intensity behind his statement.

"I'm not just saying it, Liv," he said fervently. "I've always thought it, but have just never been in a position to really tell you until now."

She kept her gaze downwards. She was pleased at the compliment, yet had no idea how to respond to it.

"Liv," he urged her. She raised her head and met his eyes. "You don't regret coming away with me like this, do you?"

She shook her head firmly, confused as to how he could possibly think that. It was the last thing in the world she would ever regret. For some reason tears began to form in her eyes. She wasn't sure why she was suddenly feeling so emotional.

"What's wrong?" he asked her, his concern immediately apparent on his face.

"I… it's nothing…I'm sorry."

"Tell me Liv."

"I don't know. I just… never imagined this, that's all."

He raised his hand to her face, using his thumb to wipe the moisture away gently from her eyes. She squeezed them shut tightly trying to blink the remaining tears away. When she opened them she realized he was literally inches from her face, staring straight at her. Then he was slowly leaning in and finally his lips were pressed against hers. She almost gasped out loud as longing washed over her body. That first touch confirmed it for her. He was kissing her and it felt amazing.

He was gentle; insistent but not obnoxiously so. His hand moved to the back of her head and she wrapped her own arms around him pulling him hard against her. She tried to empty her mind of everything but the kiss and the way it was turning her on more than anything ever had in her life. The intensity took her aback. It was primal. She had believed a kiss might have temporarily satisfied some of her desire, but instead she desperately wanted more and she found her hands reaching for his shirt. She slipped them underneath, feeling his bare skin against her palms, simultaneously opening her mouth as she felt him pushing his tongue inside. She started to pull upwards on his shirt gently, wanting to remove it completely but he didn't take the hint.

Instead he pulled away completely, his lips abandoning hers, and he gently started running his fingers down the side of her face. Confused, she leaned back in towards him, wanting his lips on hers again, but he didn't make any effort to meet her. Bewildered and embarrassed, she couldn't help wondering if he had changed his mind. Perhaps he hadn't been enjoying the kiss as much as she had been? The thought horrified her, but why else would he pull away?

"Liv," he said. "If we carry on like this, I won't be able to stop," he said.

"What's wrong with that?" she asked, heartened to realize that her fear of him not being as attracted to her as she had hoped had once again been unfounded.

"I just want to make sure you are really ready for this."

"Are you trying to kill me?" she said jocularly.

"I'm serious, Liv. This is going to change everything."

"I know."

"I don't want you to have any regrets."

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm not a teenager you know. I have done this before."

She knew it was the wrong thing to say almost as soon as the words left her lips. He visibly tensed and drew back slightly.

"I hope this isn't just another notch on your bedpost," he said bitterly, "because I thought this meant something."

"It does!" she insisted firmly, her eyes now wide with dismay. It had occurred to her before that the fact she had obviously had several previous sexual partners was probably something he would find difficult. She knew he had a tendency towards jealousy.

She watched him nervously. He looked downcast. She was terrified the mood had been ruined and she desperately hoped they could recapture the moment.

"El?" she said nervously. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

"No!" he said sadly. "Don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong."

"But…"

"I'm sorry."

He reached for her hands and took them in his.

"I just wanted to reassure you that I know what I'm doing and I want this," she said quietly. Once again she felt near tears. It was disappointing and frustrating. They had been so close. Why did she have to open her mouth?

"I know. I think I'm just… you know… nervous."

"Nervous?" she asked. She had thought she was the apprehensive one.

"It's you, Liv. I mean, you're beautiful and…" His eyes were downcast, refusing to meet hers.

"El!" she stammered, truly astonished that he might actually be nervous about his performance. It defied belief. In a way it was strangely comforting to see him so vulnerable, so human. She realized then that both of them had been building this moment up in their heads and the pressure was simply far too intense.

He raised his eyes back up to her face and she stared back intently as she spoke.

"I think we should probably take this slowly," she whispered. It was a huge change for both of them after all. She didn't want to rush things and risk things going wrong.

He nodded in agreement.

She leaned in and he wrapped his arms around her. She leaned her head against him, a position she found herself assuming very easily. His arms felt strong and safe and it was something that she had to admit she desperately craved. Memories of the awful encounter with Lewis in her apartment still bombarded her not infrequently. She realized that even being able to have his arms wrapped around her longer than the minute or so that had been the unwritten rule when they were partners was new and would take time to get used to. Taking things further was an even more intimidating step.

She wondered if he knew how recent events still played on her mind. She hadn't mentioned it much lately, their late night conversations veering to other subjects easily. She had wanted to in some ways, but it was too ingrained in her nature to hide her fragility, to tell herself that she should be 'over it' by now, for after all, aside from the gun to her head and the threat of violence, nothing had actually happened. Besides, as much as the thought of what could have happened affected her, it didn't make her feel any less attracted to him and she wasn't afraid of taking things further for that reason. However, she knew she was a little nervous to mention it in case he mistakenly took it as a sign that she wasn't yet ready.

It occurred to her that this weekend could easily pass and they could end it effectively no further forward. Why was it so complicated? How had passionately kissing on the sofa turned into cuddling? She wanted more. He wanted more. Why was it proving so difficult for them to make the leap?

She felt his fingers circling her shoulder, occasionally running up and down her arm, sending tingles throughout her body. She loved the intimacy of the snuggling. Was he really worried she would be comparing him to past lovers or was it something else? Could he be deliberately treading carefully with her recent traumatic experience in mind? After all they had worked the same job for long enough to know the types of reactions people could have after being attacked, regardless of whether it actually resulted in rape or not. Was he seeing her as a victim? Had the fact she had stopped talking about it sent warning bells off in his head, telling him to take it slow and not push her. She had to admit if it had been the other way around, she would likely have been cautious too. If that were the case, then she knew she had to talk to him, to convince him that yes events still played on her mind and yes she probably needed to talk to him more, but that it bore no relation to the way she felt about him and her readiness to pursue their relationship.

"El," she said, determined to do whatever it took to move them past this frustrating barrier that obstinately remained between them.

"Mmm," he murmured, moving his hand to her forehead and running his fingers through a strand of hair, tracing a path down the side of her face and behind her ear.

She paused. How were you supposed to bring up a subject like this? She wasn't even one hundred percent certain that this was even the issue. What if her mentioning Lewis had the opposite effect and instead of freeing them to give in to their feelings, it created even more hesitance and distance. It was a risk she had to take though. As much as she was enjoying sitting here snuggling, she knew without a doubt that she wanted so much more.

"I think we should talk about it," she said finally.

"About what?" he murmured.

"About me… about us… About what happened to me last month"

He nodded slowly, his arm around her tightening ever so slightly. It was enough to tell her that she had made the right decision. They definitely needed to have this conversation.

"I'm not over it," she admitted forlornly.

"I know," he replied and he leaned in and kissed her gently on the forehead. "It's OK, Liv. I know."


	15. Transition

15

"Are you hungry?" he asked. "Why don't we talk while we make dinner?"

"Sounds good," she agreed. She still couldn't help feeling disappointed the kiss hadn't progressed into something more, but maybe dinner and some wine would help get them back to that moment they had somehow let slip. Why did life have to be so complicated?

"Come on then." He got to his feet and she stood up too and followed him into the kitchen. It was small, but well equipped. Elliot set to work peeling the potatoes and Olivia started washing the vegetables for the salad. It didn't take long at all to prepare everything. They talked lightly as they worked. Once they had carried everything but the simmering potatoes over to the table, Elliot sat down on one of the dining chairs, impulsively grabbing her and pulling her on to his lap.

"I thought we were going to talk," she said with a chuckle, but she knew he was perfectly aware she was happy to be right where she was.

"We can do that too," he grinned, leaning in and bringing his lips to hers.

"El…" she weakly tried to protest.

"Shhh," he stopped to tell her, his mouth hovering so close to hers she could almost feel his lips move as he spoke. "Stop thinking for a moment, will you and just kiss me."

She gave in.

"I'm sorry," he said pulling back again just long enough to get the words out. "I know we said we'd talk first, but you don't know how long I've wanted to be able to do that." Then his lips were back on hers.

He finally pulled away, finishing with a gentle kiss on her forehead and then nuzzling his face into her hair.

You smell so good," he muttered.

"Er, thanks, so do you," she replied awkwardly, getting to her feet, muttering something about the potatoes.

He followed her into the kitchen.

"Looks like they're done," she said. She asked him to open the wine while she drained the potatoes, added some butter and placed them in a serving dish. He attended to the bottle, making her jump when the cork popped, despite anticipating it. She giggled and he smiled, pouring her a generous serving. They clunked glasses and took a sip before carrying the remaining items over to the table and seating themselves.

"Well, it's a simple meal, but it certainly looks good," she commented, already beginning to help herself.

There was a distant rumble of thunder in the background.

"I guess that's the rain on its way in," Elliot said resignedly.

"What are we going to do tomorrow?" she asked.

"I'm sure we'll think of something," he said pointing at the box of board games visible on the bookshelf, but with a grin that she suspected promised much more than a game of scrabble.

"Right…" she said eyeing the box suspiciously. Board games weren't really her thing and he knew that very well.

She took a moment to swallow another mouthful of food before she placed her fork down on her plate, looking at him pensively.

"El, if I hadn't have come to see you, would you have ever got back in touch?"

She watched him shift uncomfortably and she supposed she already knew the answer. She lowered her head as the same feeling of emptiness that had enveloped her when he had first upped and left, once again settled over her, reminding her of those nights she had returned home, exhausted after a shift and just curled up and cried as she desperately tried to get her head around the fact that he had really gone. All those years of partnership, and he had been able to just walk out of her life, without a glance back.

"I wanted to see you so badly…"

She believed him, but at the end of the day he hadn't. She could tell he was struggling to find the right words.

"I picked up the phone, even dialled your number a couple of times, but I couldn't go through with it.

_Why the hell not? Didn't you know what it was doing to me? How much it hurt to have you just walk out of my life without a glance back?_

"I truly thought you would be better off without me. I knew I had hurt you by leaving the way I did. I didn't want to risk doing so again."

_Well not calling hurt so much more._

"I… I needed to try and get my life back together."

_Away from me._

"I couldn't face you."

_Because I reminded you of it all._

_ "_Because I knew my feelings for you were more than just friendship and I was terrified you would hate me if you ever found out."

"How could you think that?" she whispered, shocked. "You knew how I felt about you."

"I was messed up, Liv. I had just shot a girl and I realised it was happening all over again. I was putting my feelings towards you first, over the job, over anything else and I knew it had to stop once and for all. I knew you'd be ok. You'd get a new partner. You've always got on so well with people. I knew you'd adjust. I thought you'd be better off without me holding you back. I thought you could finally find someone and be happy."

"She stared at him sadly, wondering how he could possibly be so mistaken.

"I wasn't OK," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

It was true. Her game had visibly been off for weeks. All of her colleagues had noticed and told her so. Of course after a while she had learned to hide it better, but it had remained there, a shadow over her, the main cause of her growing lethargy towards the job, towards everything.

"I'm so sorry. I really am."

She didn't bother to try and hide the tears now beginning to course down her face. She realised she wanted him to know what it had done to her. She needed him to understand. _She needed to know that he wouldn't do it again._ She picked up her fork and began to poke at some food.

"I hate to see you upset like this."

"I'm OK."

"But you're not, are you?"

"I will be."

"Liv, look at me."

Slowly she raised her eyes to his face and saw the genuine sorrow there.

"It's the worst decision I've ever made, you know, leaving you."

"I understand, El."

"I know it's going to take time for you to believe it, but I promise I'm never going to walk away again."

"You can't promise that though, can you? If we take things further, how can we go back?"

"We won't want to."

"I'm just scared we'll ruin everything and I'll lose you for good this time."

"I'm scared too, Liv."

She stared at him. She saw the emotion on his face. Just hearing him admit that he had the same fear she did, somehow made her feel a little less insecure.

"Maybe we should make a pact," she said, smiling. "If we mess this up, we remain friends, whatever."

"Agreed," he said. "But we're not going to mess it up Liv, okay?"

They lapsed into silence, both deep in thought as they finished their meal.

…

After they had eaten, he instructed her to go and sit on the sofa while he loaded the dishwasher. She resisted, but eventually he managed to persuade her. Once he finished he crossed the room and sank down beside her, slowly slipping his arm around her shoulders. She felt him pull her towards him and she didn't resist, leaning into his chest.

"You know I think you're amazing right?" he said earnestly.

Embarrassed, she started to pull back, but he tightened his arm around her, letting her know that he wasn't about to let her go anywhere.

"Why can't you just accept a compliment?" he said with a half-exasperated smile,

"I guess this is just going to take some getting used to," she said slowly.

"I know," he agreed, running his hand from her shoulder, all the way down her side, tracing a path down to her waist and sending a wave of heat through her that made it almost impossible to concentrate on anything else.

"I've always thought you were extraordinarily beautiful Olivia."

"El…" she pleaded. She hated to think he had been thinking of her in that way while he had been married to Kathy. It made her feel as though she had been doing something wrong, when in reality she had tried her hardest not to do anything to get in between him and his wife, despite the way she had felt.

"It's okay, I won't get carried away," he said, misunderstanding what she had meant by her protest. He removed his hand from her waist and placed it on the sofa.

"It's not that," she said reaching for his hand and pulling it back to her side.

"We said we'd take things slowly," he said, an uncertain look on his face.

"I know. Look, what I said before, that I'm not over what happened last month, it's true, but not in the way you think. It does play on my mind, a lot actually, but not when I'm with you, like this. I'm ready. I want…" she trailed off, as her confidence suddenly waned.

"What, Liv? What do you want?" he asked, his fingers making gentle circles around her hip.

"I want to feel normal," she said. She surprised herself. She hadn't expected those exact words to come out. She knew what she meant by them: she wanted to be free to act on her attraction to him, not be weighed down by years of partnership and friendship and fears of it all going wrong. She wanted to lose herself in the moment, forget about consequences and reason and what anyone might say or think and just allow her body to feel the physical and emotional sensations she desperately desired. She wanted his hands on her, all over her, she wanted hers on his. She wanted to feel him moving inside her, pushing and pulling, tearing down the remaining walls between them, exposing them both to possibilities she had previously only imagined. She wanted him so badly it literally ached.

She could feel his hand pressed hard against her hip and she shivered in anticipation as she silently begged him to move inwards, put his hands on her and finally move them both beyond this current torturous limbo.

"El," she whispered breathily as his hand slowly started to descend over her hip bone towards her thigh.

"What do you want Liv?" he repeated his tone low, thick and inviting.

"I want… you," she replied and almost immediately his lips collided against hers.

Something had changed. There was something more urgent about the way they were moving. It was fast, frantic, almost desperate, but completely in sync. It was breath-taking, as though they had been doing this for years, as though their mouths were destined to join together, a perfect union. She could feel the wetness pooling between her legs already but it wasn't uncomfortable, it was right. It was what was supposed to happen when a man had you in his arms and kissed you like this. His hand started to wander, gently caressing her as he moved upwards. He slipped it under her top and she could feel his fingers eagerly exploring the soft sensitive skin on her stomach. She knew he was still holding back, waiting for permission to reach for the places she desperately needed him to go. So she placed her hand on his and guided it upwards, bringing it to her chest, letting him know that it was OK, she wanted this as much as he did.

His fingers traced a path between her breasts and she closed her eyes. She was suddenly overwhelmed with the urgent need to be even closer to him. She wanted his skin on hers.

"El," she said, pulling her mouth away from his, not without some reluctance, but focused on her goal. He immediately began nuzzling into her neck, plying her with light kisses that tickled her, making her squirm.

"El!" she repeated. "Not here."

He finally seemed to hear her.

"Bedroom?" he asked, eager, but waiting for her to confirm that he hadn't misunderstood. She wondered at the way they were in the throes of one of the most passionate encounters she had ever experienced and yet he still stopped to make absolutely certain she was OK with the direction things were going.

She nodded firmly, never more sure about anything in her life. She was desperate to lose herself in this moment, with him. She finally wanted to give in, truly give in to her feelings and let them take her wherever they led.

They got to their feet and with his hand in hers he finally led her towards the bedroom.


	16. Union

16

He pushed open the door and led her into the room. He seated himself on the edge of the bed, pulling her down beside him, wrapping his arms around her and bringing his lips eagerly to hers. She closed her eyes as once again she found herself responding in kind instinctively. It was amazing how little thought was required. More often than not when kissing a man, she found her mind would wander, and not always to purely anticipation of his next move, but to questions such as, was he _really_ enjoying it and how did she compare to his previous intimate partners? Sometimes she would be particularly preoccupied with work and find herself thinking about things she needed to get done the next day as she went through the motions. Right now though, she was completely caught up in the moment.

His hands began to wander, first caressing the back of her head, then descending downwards, sending a tingle down her spine which made her shudder. As she did so, she felt his arms grip her even tighter, letting her know that he had felt her involuntary reaction. She knew he was feeding off her body's responses, for his kiss turned deeper, almost more desperate. She began to explore herself, running her arms up and down his arms, feeling his biceps through his shirt, reminded of his strength, a trait she had always found captivating. She was almost embarrassed to acknowledge that despite all of her police training and experience, she sometimes still craved the safety of a man's arms, perhaps a not uncommon female fantasy she supposed. She ran her fingers down his side and then along the top of his pants, teasing him, eager to make him squirm just as much as she was. His hand grasped hers and he pulled it upwards. She admitted defeat, allowing him to take control - for the moment anyway.

His mouth left hers and he sought out her neck, plying her with kisses, nibbling gently. She tensed, attempting to pull away as the sensation threatened to overwhelm her. She had always been so ticklish there and the way the stubble on his chin caught her, it was almost intolerable. She needed to direct his attention elsewhere, so she began to seek out the buttons on his shirt, undoing them effortlessly. Once she was done, she spread the two sides, giving her full access to his chest. She brought her mouth down, licking and enjoying the feel of his hardening nipple. With her hand she stroked his other, feeling the tiny bud between her fingers, satiated by how quickly he was reacting to her touch.

She felt him pulling at her chin, raising her lips once more to his mouth and kissing her briefly before feeling his hands working on her top, attempting to rid her of it, with a haste and obvious impatience that made her smile.

"Here!" she said, helping by raising her arms above her head so that he could ease it up and off more easily. She could feel the goose bumps on her exposed flesh as she saw him staring at her, taking her in. She was still wearing her bra, but even so, the way his eyes bore into her, his appreciation clear on his face, it felt indescribably erotic. Then his hand started caressing the edge of her bra, teasing her, making her so impatient that she wanted to rip it off for him herself.

"No!" he told her, grasping her hands and preventing her from unhooking it. Then his mouth was in the centre of her chest, nuzzling the places he could reach that weren't covered with cloth. He slipped a finger inside the left cup and circled it around, brushing over her nipple and sending a new wave of pleasure through her. Suddenly she felt his other hand pulling at the clasp and then the sensation of the fabric loosening. He raised his head and honed in on her shoulder, his hands now on her hips as he took the strap between his teeth and pulled it down, repeating his action on the other side so that she was now free of her bra completely. He tossed it onto the floor, a grin on his face that told her he was very much enamoured with what he saw. He stared shamelessly.

Feeling self-conscious at the close visual inspection she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth back to hers, leaving him to explore her breasts with his hands.

"God, you're beautiful," he muttered breathlessly in-between kisses. She took his face in both of her hands and thrust her tongue in deeply, not caring now about anything other than the fact that she wanted him inside her and soon or else she was going to perhaps go crazy. All those years of attempting to bury their feelings and hide the inevitable had culminated in this moment. She could feel the perspiration coming from his warm body, his scent penetrating her senses, and she took a deep breath.

He began to descend, his mouth heading towards her breasts, sending jolts of electricity through her. Already she was desperate for his touch lower down. She was throbbing from the intensity. She wrapped her legs around his thigh, giving herself the pressure that she so desperately needed. She rocked gently against him, her senses on overload, her entire body on fire, her breathing fast and harried as she tried to reconcile her body's reactions with the fact that this was really Elliot lying underneath her right now: her partner, her friend… now her lover. And that was what she wanted, needed him to be now.

Back as partners, they had been in sync for so long in every other way, it only made sense to her that this would translate into the bedroom. She had always imagined it would be fiery, passionate and unpredictable. However, she realised he was anticipating her needs, sometimes before she even realised what they were. She felt him roll her off him and gently position her on her back and then he immediately placed his leg between hers, maintaining the pressure she desperately needed in order to prevent the pleasure from turning into discomfort. With his mouth pulling at her nipple, she briefly flinched. Never having nursed a child and stretched out her nipples she had always found too much pulling on them to be too uncomfortable to get much enjoyment out of it, but he picked up on that immediately. Instead he began running his tongue around her areola, only brushing against the nipple gently and instead of pain, she felt the shivers of pleasure course through her, making her realise what it was she had been missing out on.

It was a revelation, but it was one she would have to analyse another time she decided briefly, for now she felt his hand caressing her thigh through her pants, curling under the top and slipping down inside, reaching downwards and underneath, tentatively honing in on her buttocks; another highly sensitive area that more often than not she had found was not given the attention she felt it was due. She felt him unbuckle her belt with his other hand, but instead of immediately parting her from the garment, he continued running his fingers over her skin around and under her underwear, so lightly that the tickles made her squirm. She loved it. He wasn't just bent on reaching the ultimate goal, this was more than placing part A in part B, this was a true exploration of her body.

It was apparent he was eager to know everything about the way her body reacted to his touch. Light touches, rougher touches, caresses, kisses, strokes, circles, nibbles, pressure, kneading, he seemed to be searching out the exact recipe to completely send her over the edge and as his hand moved up and around towards the front, feeling the area around her pelvic bone through her underwear, she wondered if he would even need to slip his hand inside and make actual contact, for her muscles were already clenching and she knew she was remarkably close already. He pressed his leg even more firmly against her and the pressure helped delay the inevitable briefly, but she knew this was going to end quickly for her. It had been building for too long.

"El," she whispered apologetically, crestfallen that this was going to end before it had even properly begun.

"We have all night," he said unperturbed. Then he slipped his fingers inside her underwear and began to stroke her. She relaxed, for he was right. They did have all the time in the world – well all weekend anyway. She knew she was on the brink and she wouldn't have been able to stop it even if she had tried.

With his warm fingers, now sufficiently lubricated thanks to her body's strong reaction to his presence, he pressed more firmly against her most sensitive area. She felt it building within seconds of him making contact. He pressed and flicked and circled and then abruptly sped up, the sudden friction and motion proving the final straw as she peaked and came crashing down, the waves coursing through her several times as he continued to gently massage her while she lay back, gratified but in wonder and slightly embarrassed at just how quickly it had happened.

His lips returned to hers and she kissed him back, reaching for his buckle, assuming that he would want to continue this as soon as possible. But he stopped her and bringing his mouth to her ear he whispered.

"Not yet. Like I said, we have all night."

She looked at him momentarily confused, wondering if he was possibly telling her he didn't want to go all the way after all, but then he returned his attention to her breasts and she realised his intention. He hadn't finished with her.

She made the decision to let him go ahead - if it was a decision. She wasn't entirely sure she had any conscious control over anything any more. Her body was in charge now. Her mind had long since surrendered.

She was determined not to let him do all the work though. She wanted him to feel just as good as she did, to let him know that she cared about him just as much as he obviously did about her and so she set to work on her own personal mission to bring him to the edge, to make sure this night was one he would never forget. She had no disillusions that they might fall together, certainly not this first time anyway, but over she intended them both to go.

He had started to descend, his mouth tracing a path downwards towards her belly, causing her abdominal muscles to clench hard as his relentless movements tickled her. She tried to shift their positions, intending to reciprocate the action, but he had her pinned and she found herself unable to move easily.

He was getting lower and she realised his intended destination.

"El!" she said firmly, the insistence in her tone getting the desired response immediately. He raised his head and looked at her questioningly.

She shook her head and he looked at her puzzled.

She guided him onto his back and began to shower him with kisses, exploring his chest and then his abdomen. He lay back and closed his eyes as she worked and she smiled to see he was obviously enjoying the attention she rained on him as much as she had done.

She struggled with his zipper and then with his help she removed his pants, dropping them onto the floor. Now they lay entwined, only their underwear separating them, the warm evening, combined with the heat of their bodies not necessitating any covers. Once again their mouths joined together and this time it was a slow sensual kiss, one full of promise and anticipation, awe and amazement.

She reached inside his underpants and she watched him close his eyes momentarily as she touched him for the first time, exploring with her fingers, enjoying the fact that this time it was he who was the one on the verge of losing control. But he was quick to return things to a more equal footing, as he slipped his fingers back inside her underwear. Then it was her turn to gasp as he ran over her most sensitive area once again, making her wonder if she might not be heading towards the same quick resolution as the first time he had ventured there. It was astonishing to her how she was just as aroused this second time, if not even more so. She began to suspect that a second release may be even more powerful than the first and the anticipation made her even more audacious. With one swift move, she removed her underwear, enjoying his wide-eyed expression as he realised she was eager for this to go ahead and quickly. He pulled his own remaining garment down, quickly reaching into his discarded pants beside the bed for a condom, that she realised he must have conveniently placed in his pocket. She watched him intently as he rolled it on, finding the significance of the action and what it was going to lead to more than erotic enough to keep her enticed while she waited. As soon as he had finished, she immediately started to position herself on top of him.

With her on top, he gently pushed his way inside her, watching her face carefully, knowing that she was getting used to the feel of him filling her and slowly accommodating to his size. When she reopened her eyes, eagerly meeting his, he knew she was ready and he began to move, slowly at first, but then picking up the pace. With his eyes locked on hers, he came, thrusting into her, feeling her muscles clamp around him as he came, letting him know that she too had succumbed a second time. He slumped, staying inside her as long as he could, not wanting to end the union that he had wanted for longer than he could remember.

He ran his hand through her hair tenderly, still marginally in disbelief that she had allowed him to participate in this most intimate of acts, grateful that somehow they had finally arrived where he resolutely believed they had been destined to go ever since they had first met. Being with her, like this, it felt so right. Every movement was tantalizing, every touch breathtaking, every second captivating. He could hardly believe it had really happened.

"Did we really just do that?" he asked with a grin.

"I think so," she smiled back.

"I can't wait to do it again," he said, his cheeks flushing slightly as he hoped she wouldn't think it too clichéd or worse, crude.

"Me neither," she replied with a grin, searching out his mouth and letting him know that his worries were unfounded.

"I might need a little rest first," he said. "We're hardly spring chickens any more.

"Speak for yourself!" she scoffed indignantly, her hands already descending, seeking him out.

He groaned and reached for them, grasping them in his and raising them up to his mouth, kissing her fingers tenderly.

"I love you, Olivia," he said.

She paused for the briefest of moments as she took his words in. She could tell he hadn't planned to say that right then. The words had just tumbled out. In fact he looked almost as surprised as she was and she could see the slight fear there, the worry that he had said too much too soon.

"I love you too," she replied, the tears, glistening in her eyes.

Smiling, he once again brought his lips to hers.


	17. AN

**A/N 7****th**** July 2013**

I am sorry this isn't a new chapter. In fact I debated whether this was the right thing to do or whether a note at the end of the latest chapter would be better, but I thought perhaps people wouldn't notice it and I wanted to explain, because I really appreciate everyone who has supported me over the last few months by reading and commenting on my stories and I don't want you to think I have just abandoned them.

I have decided to take a short summer hiatus. I am travelling next week and I have a lot to organise before our trip, but in addition, to be honest, I am just so tired. Work has been crazy since April and what with writing too, I think I have been pushing myself too hard. I think my tiredness has perhaps contributed to making me feel less confident about my writing as I've been feeling discouraged lately.

So I'm hoping a break will help me to refocus. I'll be able to come back to my stories with fresh eyes, edit previous chapters and improve on them and hopefully my subsequent chapters will be even better.

There is still a lot more to come to Turning Point. It's not a bad place to leave it really I suppose. I debated actually ending the story here even, but I did originally have a lot more planned for it so I'm going to stick with it.

_I will probably still read (and review) the stories I am currently following, so I will see you around. Have a great summer. :-) S x_


	18. A walk

**A/N I am back. I never intended to leave for so long, so I apologize profoundly for that. I will be attempting to update this as frequently as I can until I finish now. Thanks so much for sticking with the story. **

17

"We really should go out and make the most of the weather tomorrow," he said softly in her ear. With the weather as miserable as predicted they had spent much of the day in bed enjoying finally being able to explore their newly acknowledged hunger for one another.

"Mmm," she murmured, too comfy snuggled up against his warm body to seriously consider his eager suggestion.

"I suppose we could stay in if you prefer," he said, "I just thought getting out for a couple of hours at least might be worthwhile, especially since we came all this way." He sounded almost disappointed.

"You don't have to convince me," she replied quickly with a smile. "I think we should."

"OK," he said, kissing her on the forehead gently.

"We should think about getting some food in," she suggested. He glanced at his watch and realised she was right. It was already three in the afternoon and the shop wouldn't be open much longer.

"What do you fancy for dinner?"

"I don't know. Some pasta maybe?"

"Sounds good to me," he agreed. "Do you want me to run you a bath so you can relax while I pop down there?"

"That would be lovely," she said. He nodded and then reluctantly disentangling himself, he slipped his legs over the side of the bed and rose to his feet. Spinning around, he caught her blush and knew she had been staring at his ass.

"Don't be bashful," he told her with a grin. "You can look all you want, _baby_."

He barely had time to duck as she threw a pillow at him faster than he could have anticipated.

Chuckling, he stepped over to the en suite bathroom and proceeded to start the bath.

He reappeared a few moments later with a toothbrush in his mouth, standing completely naked, exuding a confidence that made her almost want to roll her eyes. He was full of it, she thought, but she had to admit she liked being able to freely run her eyes over his muscular body. She loved the fact that he looked after himself and had continued to work out despite leaving the job. If anything he looked slimmer than she had imagined, she thought. She wondered if he had really lost weight or whether it was just her imagination.

She knew his eyes were fixed on her and timidly she pulled the sheets slightly higher. It was one thing to be exposed in the throes of passion and he had certainly seen plenty of her over the last twenty-four hours, but it was quite another to be scrutinized in broad daylight.

"Do you fancy some more wine?" he asked.

"I don't mind either way," she said. "Maybe a glass would be nice."

"OK," he said, disappearing back into the bathroom.

She heard the water running, followed by the sound of his electric razor. It reminded her of the feel of his stubble on her skin and she snuggled into the sheets contentedly, remembering how on the last occasion he had once again descended her body with his mouth, coming to a halt around her bellybutton, before seeking her permission to continue downwards.

_She had protested, but he had insisted and she had been so turned on that she had let him. At first she had been nervous when she had felt him getting closer and had tensed considerably as he had taken her thighs in his hands, gently easing them apart so that he could access her more readily. _

_ "Relax!" he had instructed her firmly, obviously feeling her tense up. She had closed her eyes, desperately trying to do as he asked and not think about the consequences: the fact that at some point he would probably want her to return the favour and the truth was, she hadn't done that since Sealview. _

_ She sighed. It was impossible to relax, even though she badly wanted to. The feel of his lips and tongue on her was exquisite, but her mind wouldn't let her really give in to the sensations. Should she tell him? Would he understand? She suspected he would, but would it ruin things for him? She already had Harris in her head. Was it fair to put him in Elliot's as well? This was supposed to be just the two of them, not some kind of warped threesome. _

_ She could feel the tears building in her eyes. She was supposed to be over it by now, surely? Then there was Lewis. He would have done so much worse, had he been able to. She shuddered at the thought. _

_ He stopped and she blinked furiously, mortified. He was trying to give her pleasure and she was torturing herself with images she wished she could get out of her head. Maybe she hadn't been ready for this. Maybe she never would be. _

_ "Liv?" he had questioned concerned. "Are you OK?" _

_ She nodded weakly, ashamed. _

_ He shifted so that he was now lying alongside her and began to gently caress her face. He had obviously noticed her tears she realised and she hated herself for not having been able to keep her past out of their present. _

_ "I'm sorry…" she began._

_ "What is it?" he asked. He wasn't irritated or impatient and his tone carried no hint of pressure or expectation. He was simply concerned about her. It touched her and she wanted so badly to tell him then, but she had kept this most intimate and irrational fear a secret for so long, that she found herself frozen, unable to form the words. _

_ "I…" she stammered. _

_ "Tell me," he invited her again. She almost did._

_ "Can we just make love the conventional way?" she said eventually. Explanations would have to wait. She wasn't quite ready yet. _

_ He nodded, obviously confused, but unconditionally accepting. _

_ "Thanks," she had whispered as he had nuzzled into her neck and began kissing her there, the stubble once again gently tickling her skin. _

He reappeared five minutes later, now all traces of that stubble gone and he told her the bath was almost ready. Seemingly already accustomed to her inexplicable shyness in front of him, despite their intimacy, he handed her a bath robe. She accepted it gratefully, slipping into it before crossing the room.

"I won't be long," he told her, planting a kiss on her lips before he left.

She sank into the hot bath tub, sighing with pleasure as the hot water enveloped her body. She lay back, closed her eyes and tried to empty her mind. This was actually what happiness was, she decided, as she remembered how she felt snuggled up to him the previous night as they fell asleep in one another's arms for the very first time.

…

The following morning, afterwards, they showered together, Olivia allowing another person to wash her hair and soap her body for the first time in her adult life and discovering just how sensual and intimate it could be to allow another person to care for her in this way. Of course she had returned the favour and enjoyed being able to reciprocate just as much.

Breakfast had been simple – bacon, eggs and toast - and after clearing up, they were finally ready to venture outdoors.

"Here," he said, handing her a bottle of water that he had thoughtfully purchased the evening before.

"She placed it in her rucksack and began to pull on her walking shoes, tightening the laces carefully.

"So where are we heading?" she asked. She had left the planning to him, as he knew the area better than she did.

"I thought we'd head up into the hills a little and see the view of the lake from above," he said.

"Sounds good," she said. She honestly didn't care where they went – as long as they went together and preferably with no one else around. She wasn't ready yet to leave their own little cocoon.

They walked hand in hand for a while, but when the track narrowed and began to work its way upwards, she fell behind, Elliot leading the way. Both were fit and so their pace was quick despite the steepness of the track. There had been a slightly less arduous route around the other side of the hill, but Elliot had discovered this one was supposed to offer better views of the lake below and he was confident they could easily handle it.

About half way up they paused to rest, at a point where the ground levelled out slightly.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he sighed, slipping his arms around her and holding her close as they gazed at the lake below.

She nodded in agreement, staring mesmerized at the scenery below them.

"You know there's no one around," he said, a twinkle in his eye. "You can kiss me if you like?"

She smiled, her eyes shining as she leaned in to do as he asked. It still felt a little strange, she had to admit, but she definitely thought she could get used to this.

"Look!" she said suddenly, pointing away from the track and down the hillside a very short way.

"It's a snake mouth!" Elliot exclaimed, seeing the rose-pink flower that Olivia was pointing at. "It's a type of orchid."

"I had no idea you knew so much about flowers!" she said, surprised.

"I don't. I just remember reading about this one and the name stuck out, for obvious reasons."

"Do you think we can reach it?"

"We can try. It doesn't look too steep."

They began to cautiously make their way down the slope towards the flower, reaching it relatively easily.

"What a sweet smell!" Olivia said leaning in. "It smells almost like raspberries."

After admiring the flower, but leaving it where it grew, a lone splash of colour against the otherwise green hillside, they began to make their way back up towards the path. It was difficult to see the ground beneath their feet with all the overgrowth, which Olivia supposed accounted for her not noticing the rock. She immediately felt her ankle give and losing her balance fell hard to the ground.

"Liv!" she heard him cry as he spun around to see her sprawled on the ground. Feeling more than a little silly, she quickly realized she hadn't actually done any real damage; there was just a minor scrape on her knee. She couldn't remember the last time she had fallen down like this; probably not since she was a child, she decided.

Elliot was crouching on the ground by her side in seconds.

"It's nothing!" she insisted immediately.

"You're bleeding!" he informed her. Sure enough a trickle of blood was now working its way down her leg. He delved into his bag, withdrawing a mini first aid kit.

"Wow, you are prepared!" she said, impressed. He proceeded to clean and cover up the wound and within five minutes declared she was fit to continue.

"Here!" he said, offering his hand.

"I'm fine," she scoffed, pushing his hand away and getting to her feet by herself. "I feel like a right idiot."

"It happens," he grinned, bending down and picking up his rucksack.

She smiled at him. Then she saw his face whiten.

"El?" she exclaimed. He suddenly looked extremely unsteady on his feet.

"El, are you okay?" she repeated concerned. She'd never seen him like this before. He actually looked as though he were going to faint or something.

Then he nodded and she noticed with relief that the colour was coming back to his cheeks.

"What happened?" she asked, continuing to watch him carefully for signs of anything unusual.

"I just got dizzy there for a second," he shrugged. "I guess I stood up too fast or something."

She looked at him doubtfully, but he turned and began making his way back up the slope, calling for her to follow him.

She followed, still uneasy. Maybe she was over-thinking it though? Neither of them was exactly young any more. It was probably just one of those things. He seemed fine now after all. It niggled at her though and she found it hard to just dismiss.

He was already back up at the footpath though and seemed keen to continue, so she decided to let it go. It was probably nothing.


End file.
